Ecclesiastes
by insaneartist
Summary: I've recently revamped this story a bit, so please start over if you've been reading. A lot of it has just been recycled, but I've changed major plot lines, so please take the minute to reread
1. The Exit

**Chapter One: I've recently revamped this story a bit, so please start over if you've been reading. A lot of it has just been recycled, but I've changed major plot lines, so please take the minute to reread**

* * *

The Exit by Lydia is the song that comes up.

* * *

The trees surrounding the freeway became a blur as I drove up the last bit of windy freeway to Beacon Hills. I've been driving for the past four hours, and I'm ready to be done; my car followed my mood as the trees became more and more blurry and the asphalt disappeared underneath my tires. Water trickled down onto my windshield – despite learning in, and sticking to driving in LA, I can handle the rain. The droplets, although few, fell hard onto my car as I rocketed toward the exit to get to the Argent's house; I was parked in their driveway in no time.

Chris and Allison walked out of their house as I lock my car. They smile at me; the rain bounces off their black coats and white, white skin. We quietly, and awkwardly, stare at one another until Chris breaks the silence and says, "Well, it's been a while since we've all seen each other."

I nod, "It's been a while since I've been in Northern California. Or the Bay, whatever this is considered."

Allison smiles at me and says, "You look cold."

I laugh and cross my arms over my chest. I left my home in LA wearing dark teal, high waist short-shorts, copper colored gladiator, ankle sandals, and a matching copper crop top. Taking my sunhat off, I reply, "It is pretty chilly here."

"Let me show you to your room. A U-Haul of your stuff came yesterday; the workers unloaded all your boxes along the walls of your room."

"Fantastic," I smile weakly, "Now I don't have to lug boxes around in the rain."

Allison walks me to my room while Chris goes back to whatever he was doing. Allison, surely considering herself helpful, starts to unpack boxes of clothing with me. She puts dresses and skirts on hangers and lays them neatly on the bare, California king mattress in the huge room provided for me. I look over my shoulder at Allison while hanging up my dresses in one part of the large walk-in closet attached to the room. "Is your room this big?"

She smiles somewhat awkwardly, "No, Uncle—your dad paid for a remodeling."

"I see," I sigh and go back to hanging up my dresses and skirts. Allison helps me fold and put away my casual clothing in drawers, and hanging up dresses, skirts, formal, and my designer clothing. We are mostly quiet in this unpacking process, but Allison quietly gasps at my packed up jewelry collection. I smile a bit awkwardly at her and ask, "Is something wrong?"

"No," she quickly shakes her head, "I'm just impressed about the amount of gold you have."

I laugh and put on a few of the thick, golden bangle bracelets. "It's mostly Egyptian gold."

"The import tax must be mind boggling."

I laugh and flash her a genuine smile, "Once he accepted and legitimized me, your uncle took me to Khartoum, then Jebel Marra, then the Red Sea, then up to Egypt because he couldn't take Sudan anymore."

Allison laughs awkwardly.

"He bought me a lot of Egyptian jewelry to make up for not really bonding with me."

Allison smiles awkwardly, again.

Allison watches as I slip the gold bracelets off; the gold highlights the golden flecks scattered about my light mocha skin, but I figure all the copper I'm wearing is flattering enough. Allison and I unpack and put away for the next few hours. The evening creeps up on us very quickly; Allison checks the time and says, "Oh no! I was supposed to meet someone half an hour ago!"

I smile at her, "You can go. I'll do the rest by myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, go meet up with whoever's waiting for you."

Allison's awkward smile turns into a genuine one. "Alright, I'll see you later."

I nod and continue putting all my things away.

[center][img] sydney/images/bird_ [/img][/center]

I wasn't sure how I would feel about Allison when Bernard shipped me out here for the remainder of the summer, and really, for the next academic year, but she seems cool enough. They both seem cool enough as they left to do their own thing – whatever the hell that means for a chilly Wednesday night. But I won't complain. I pulled out my guitar from its carefully packaged case and set it on my bed. I quickly call out their names to make sure they're gone before I put out the super small trunk with my bong in it. I carry both things downstairs and outside to their patio. They've set up a few classy, matching, metal lawn chairs and a small table near their in-ground pool; I pulled a seat up toward the stairs of the pool and sat down. Not sure of how much time I have, I quickly grind two fat bowls and get to smoking them; I do my best to keep my coughing to a minimum and clean up as well as I can.

My legs are too relaxed to properly walk, but I can't have this shit out when they come back, so I make my way back up to my room as quickly as I possibly can and slide the trunk under my bed. I wash my hands and then take my time walking back to the patio. I lie down on the cool metal and hang my head over the top while randomly strumming the guitar, waiting for a note to inspire me. The stars twinkle here and there in the dark night sky; crickets rub their legs together as if to tell me to hurry up with a tune; the distant sounds of dogs howl, as if they await whatever I can pull off.

I sigh and strike a cord that sounds stable enough to build off of, so I start to tap my toes and hum, waiting for the lyrics to come to me. Time passes and I feel a sharp, shivering sting in the base of my neck that spikes down to the small of my back. My fingers pull violently at the strings of the guitar, but I quickly relax and ease back into a soft, steady beat. My body relaxes against the cool metal once more, so I again dip my head over the top of the chair, but now I start singing out, "_We drove right past the exit/And nobody even said a thing./'Cause the light in your eyes/They started dancing for my brain_."

More stars twinkle above my heavy lids; crickets quieted down; the howls grow louder.

"'_Cause I know/You're all about the world and when it's ending/And I know, yeah/'Cause you whispered it right to me_."

My high starts to fade a bit, but my relaxation keeps me buzzing hard.

"_Just where the hell were you?/I've just been siting here counting ghosts./And you look scared again./Just sing it out loud, it'll sound like this: oh oh, oh, oh oh…_"

My senses start to heighten and my high comes buzzing right back; I can feel the sensitive parts of my teeth, the tightness of my gums, the spit on my bottom lip; I can feel the cool metal like it's a cage to support my flesh; I can smell pool water as if I was in it; I can hear the howls erupt out of the chest of near-by dogs and I shiver at the possibility of danger.

"_They spoke it quite softly,/I can't come west until the spring./But all I could hear is you,/Because my head it's been spinning. And I know you're all about the world and when it's ending/And I know, yeah/'Cause you whispered it right to me…_"

My fingers feel both numb and burning. My strumming has remained consistent, yet I feel like I've played into a forest fire. The stars shimmer in the sky above and the fabric of the night looks like it's rolling back and forth like a tidal wave.

"_Just where the hell were you?/I've just been siting here counting ghosts./And you look scared again./Just sing it out loud, it'll sound like this: oh oh, oh, oh oh…_"

The music of the crickets has long rejected and abandoned my noise, but the howling is so close I can practically feel the breath of a pack circling me. My eyes tilt downward to see a pale, handsome face, staring at me in absolute awe while kneeling at the base of the chair, hands clutching the sides of the metal, as if for worship.

I'm much too high to see the potential danger in the face of this beautiful stranger, so I continue on singing. "_I don't hang this cross for him,/I hang it for my mother's grin. If I wasn't so far away,/ I'd ask my pops if he's free today./But everyone, everyone here looks like they're on their own./I like your style./I like your style./Let's just have some fun._"

The handsome boy at my feet tips his head back and howls, and then all the howls are in sudden unison until one, piercingly loud howl interrupts all of the others and quiets the scene. Except for me. "_Yeah, I've just been sitting here counting ghosts._"

The handsome boy tilts his head to look at me again. His eyes are a glowing golden and his face has bits of beard that weren't there before and his teeth look like weapons. I take a moment to look at this white shoes, black jeans, and a white, button up shirt that's open enough to see a bit of chest hair on a bed of cream-colored skin. Thin, peach lips part for him to noiselessly gasp. I quickly look at his broad shoulders, his strong, square jaw, his slightly crooked nose, his high cheekbones, his blue-grey eyes, and his curly, golden brown hair before sighing and leaning forward a bit to keep staring at him.

"_And you look scared again_."

He starts to carefully climb onto the chair and climb up to me.

"_Just sing it out loud, It'll sound like _–"

He gets ripped off of me by a pair of large hands. I tilt my head to the right to see the boy being squeezed as a restraint in the arms of a slightly older guy. A man in his thirties stands behind and to the right. He stares at me while handing Allison a harp—like instrument. I see Allison gulp as I continue playing my guitar. She walks up to me and says, "I told them you don't know anything, but they want you to play this anyway."

I slowly put down my guitar and sit up. I yawn and look at her from beneath my drooping lids. "What is this for?"

"My, my friends."

I lean into her while going for the harp and whisper as low as I can manage, "Are we okay? Do you really know these men?"

She smiles at me then nods before saying, "Trust me. Just a quick strum."


	2. Heads Will Roll

**Chapter 2:**

* * *

Wake Me Up by Avicci is the song that comes up later.

* * *

I grab onto the harp and rest it on my lap. I look up at all the new faces then focus back on the wild, handsome boy, trapped in the arms of a much larger man. I gently pull back the strings, one at a time, from my itching fingertips. I shiver at the whimsical sound they all make and then refocus my tired eyes on the wide, desperate eyes of the handsome, pale boy. He locks eyes with me and starts to calm down as I figure a tune to play. I start to tap my foot against the cement of the patio to set a consistent background sound. "_Feeling my way through the daaarkness/Guided by a beating heaaart./I caan't tell where the jooouurney will end,/But I know where to staaaart…_"

I can see the hands of the larger man start to loosen while the handsome boy softens and settles down.

"_They tell me IIIII'm too yooouuung to understand/They say I'm caught up in a dreeeeeaam./Well life will pAAss me by if I don't ooOoopen up my eyyyyes/Well that's fine by meeee_…"

The older man who handed the harp to Allison slowly walks forward, as if approaching a recently freed lion from years angrily pacing in a cage.

I tap my foot harder and faster against the cement, "_So waaake me up when it's aaall ooovver/When I'm wIIIser and I'm older/All this tiiiime I was fiiinding myyyself/And IIII didn't knooow I was loooost…_"

I continue playing and start to dance just a bit to the tune. I close my eyes and move my torso and head around for a while before looking back up at everyone. The handsome boy slowly slides down the body of the larger guy loosely holding him. He drops to his knees and slides his hands up his neck and into his hair while his eyes become glossy and his mouth droops open.

"_I tried caarryying the weeaaeeeight of the woorrrld/But I only have two haaaaands/Hope I get the chance to traaaavel the world/But I don't haaave any plaaaanns…_"

The handsome boy starts to walk on his knees toward me, and no one stops him.

"_Wish that I could stay foooreeeever this young/Not afraid to close my eyes…_"

Once again, he stops at my feet and kneels and stares up at me as if to worship.

"_Life's a game made for eeeeverrryooone/And love is the prize_."

He stares up at me like a lost child in a store finding their parents after hours of searching.

"_So waaake me up when it's aaall ooovver/When I'm wIIIser and I'm older/All this tiiiime I was fiiinding myyyself/And IIII didn't knooow I was loooost…_"

I lean down toward him and he leans up toward me. I go to press my full, wet lips, against his thin, chapped ones, but the older man who gave Allison the harp gently tugs him away from me. This time, the handsome boy doesn't fight or try to wiggle free, but rather, calmly accepts this fate of separation. The larger, slightly older guy from before grips the shoulders of the handsome boy while the older man walks up to me with wide eyes and a furrowing brow. I don't really care for this, so I lie down and hang my shoulders over the length side edge of the metal chair. "_I didn't know I was loooooost! I didn't know I was looAAAooost! I didn't know – I didn't know I was lost…_"

He grips the top and bottom of the harp and tugs it away from me. I get pulled up with it, but the force of a second tug rips it from my hands, stopping my tune, stopping my singing, and stopping the handsome boy's kneeling toward me.

Everything is quiet. I lean my right side against the back of the chair and enjoy the cool metal bringing me back from reality and from my intense high. I can no longer feel my teeth or all the rubs and slight pricks against my skin, but I'm definitely still too tired to really engage what the hell is happening. As if Allison can tell exactly what I'm feeling and wondering, she looks at the older man, who is now holding the harp to his chest, and asks, "So what does this all mean?"

He stares at me, cocks his head to the side, and grins. "It means that Lydia isn't your only interesting friend."


	3. Escape

**Chapter Three**

* * *

Chris runs over after almost breaking down the gate to the fence in the side yard. "What the hell is happening here?" He yells and runs toward Allison. He steps in front of her to guard her and says, "What are you all doing here?"

The man with the harp takes a step back, "We didn't come here to try and start anything."

"Well we have something now!" Chris barks at them.

The man with the harp chuckles, looks down for a moment, then back into Chris' eyes. His eyes now glow an icy blue and he almost growls, "We're here to collect one of our own." His eyes flash to me.

Chris turns his head to the right and looks at me. "What are they talking about?"

I shrug and grunt for a second. My throat is dry and dead from the singing and the smoking. "I played a harp. That is the extent of my knowledge."

Chris looks back at the man with the harp. "What are you talking about?"

"This," the man says and brings the harp up to Chris' face, "is a Kissar. An ancient, actual Kissar. It has been passed down to me from the wolves before us from the wolves before them from a siren who killed Nyctimus for it."

"What?" I yawn.

Everyone looks at me and then back to the man with the harp.

"Nyctimus, our direct ancestor, played this for Zeus after Zeus resurrected him. And he was given the task to spread its beautiful sound wherever he could get himself. But a siren killed him, inheriting the task as infinite burden." He cocks his head and looks at me, "And only a direct descendant can play _this_ Kissar."

Everyone stares at me.

I look at all the faces and then shrug and yawn again. "I'm not really fully getting this and I don't really care."

Chris steps away from Allison and runs his hands through his hair while sighing.

"Why you so stressed?"

He snaps his head toward me and shouts, "You have no idea what this means!" He turns to Allison, "_You_ have no idea what this means!"

I roll my eyes and groan, "What does it mean?"

Chris shouts up into the night sky before turning to look at me. "Once you play the harp of a pack, you must harp for a pack."

I roll my eyes again, "What the fuck does _that_ mean?"

Chris looks at the slightly older guy who was holding back the handsome boy. "This can be a lot easier and shorter if you'd shift."

The guy nods and steps to the side, away from everyone. A deep growl rips out of his lips from deep in his chest. His body tremors and the seams of his clothing rips and strains, which oddly turns me on, but the sight of his contorted, hairy, fanged face completely turns everything off. I gasp and scoot back a bit at the sight of his red, glowing eyes. His voice is gruff and deep, "This isn't the usual way people find out."

"What the hell is happening?!" I shout and pound my fists once against the tops of my thighs.

"Nyctimus is a man in ancient Greek mythology. His father murdered and prepared him for food for Zeus to try and make a fool of the gods. Zeus brought Nyctimus back to life, but his father and all of his brothers were turned into wolves. From here, these men sought out mystical advisors to teach them how to balance and shift between man and beast. Some of us are bitten," he looks at the man with the harp, "And some of us are inheritors."

I lean against the back of the chair and run a hand up and down my neck. "So… you're trying to tell me you're a… werewolf?"

"Not trying – showing your proof."

"Okay," I sigh and slowly get up. "I'm going to sleep on this."

"Oh no no no," the man with the heart starts walking toward me, "You see, Nyctimus is _our_ ancestor. The siren who murdered him is _your_ ancestor. Her burden is now yours. And that burden is our gain."

I look at him and shake my head, "Allison is one then, too."

He tilts his head down and smirks up at me, "You didn't inherit this from your father."

I groan and start to walk away, "We're not talking about my mother tonight."

He quickly closes the space between us and grips my left bicep in his right arm.

I turn my head to the left and stare him right in the eye. "You let go of me or I'll break your arm off from the elbow."

He chuckles and rolls his head, still smirking at me. "I'd like to see you try."

My body tremors a bit – I've felt this rage before, but I've never felt it as power. I continue to stare into his eyes as I focus all my shaking into my capture arm; the shaking turns violent and I yank him forward hard enough to dislocate his elbow and shoulder. He stumbles forward, lets go of me, and bites his lip to keep the sound of his pain in his mouth. The one who shifted runs up and pops his joins back into place. The harp holder looks at me and then laughs, "Good try. With some training you'll be able to rip arms clean off."

I scream out into the night and roar, "Who the fuck are you people?"

He laughs and says, "I'm Peter Hale, former alpha – "

"Then you're clearly of no importance," I sigh and then look at the man with him, "Who are you?"

He laughs and says, "Derek Hale, current alpha."

I wave my right hand around to signal behind him. "And who are all these boys behind you?"

A boy steps forward and blocks Allison from the scene in the making. "I'm Scott. I'm an omega."

I roll my eyes and sigh, "What the fuck does that mean?"

Peter rolls his eyes too, "He refuses to officially join the pack. He just runs around with us."

I laugh, "Then just join—"

"No, no," he shakes his head, "Not this pack."

Literally everyone but Scott rolls his or her eyes – possibly not Allison, as I can't see her, but everyone else rolls their eyes. Another boy steps forward and says, "I'm Stiles. I'm just a human."

"So what are you doing here?"

He laughs, "Sometimes I wonder, but I try to be helpful."

Allison moves from behind Allison, "Dad and I are hunters."

"What the fuck?" I laugh and sit down on the cement. "What the hell y'all doing here together?"

Scott laughs, "Sometimes we fight and sometimes we collaborate."

I roll my eyes but rest them on the handsome boy. "Who are you?"

He clears his throat and then croaks, "I'm I—Isaac."

I smile at him, "You an inheritor, too?"

"No," his pale cheeks burn a light pink, "Derek bit me."

I look back at Derek, "So you bite one random teen and call yourself an alpha? This is a pathetic pack."

Both Chris and Peter laugh and roll their eyes.

Derek growls, "Well, Eric and Boyd are currently MIA, so –"

"I don't care," I yawn and get up. "This has been interesting, but I'm going to bed." I turn to walk away, but then Chris says, "It's not fair, and it's not desirable, but it's the balance now. And if you try to break it, your whole life is going to fall into shambles."

I laugh and continue to walk away, "I was born into shambles."

"But then you were wisped into wealth. You want to lose this new comfort zone?"

I stop and look at him over my left shoulder. "The one perk to my otherwise fuck'd life?"

He grins and nods, "Follow me to the car."


	4. Kids & Walls

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Chris drives Allison and I to a closed animal clinic. I think it's weird, but I don't question it since this past half hour has been fucking insane anyway. Chris rethinks his parking; he pulls out and then goes and parks in the shadows in the back. We wait around the front door for a few minutes, only entering when Scott, from the inside, opens it up for us and immediately locks it again once we're inside. Chris grabs my left arm and tugs me toward large metal table, which, when making contact with my exposed skin, sends endless shivers through my body. "Lie down on this while we wait for Deaton."

I groan and lie down on the freezing table; the wait is forever and I drift in and out of sleep, only really awakened at the sound of a booming, angry voice that forces back all the tables, instruments, cages and people in the room. "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HER?"

Chris barks back, "We need to weaken her!"

I'm scooped off of the table and placed into a nearby, empty porcelain tub.

The new voice bellows, "AND NOW WE MUST REVIVE!"

I see a black hand beckon someone over; Scott jumps to my side and they both lift me the off of the table and into a tub. They only leave me alone once I'm in a sitting position, against a narrow back of the tub, and pull my arms out and over so that I may balance myself. I manage to turn my head to the right, resting it a bit against my shoulder. I see a black man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, attaching a hose to a near by faucet. He looks over his shoulder and rests his eyes on mine. I smile weakly, "This is a nice surprise."

He smiles softly at me, "What do you mean?"

"I was afraid to be the only black person in this small town."

He laughs and says, "I'm sorry to say that you basically are. You would think that this town would have some diversity since we're so close to San Francisco."

I laugh and then sigh.

He looks at me and says, "You're pretty light – you're more golden than anything else. You'll pass."

I breathe out loudly and heavily and slip against the back of the tub. I hand my head over the edge and say, "Isn't that so weird? My mom was dark. And our treatments were so drastically different, even if we were at the same place at the same time."

He nods, continuing to mess with the faucet and the hose.

I sigh again and stare up at the paneled ceiling, "Isn't it weird that there's even such a thing as 'passing'? That we have to try so desperately hard to blend in, to assimilate? For our safety? To even touch our 'rights'?"

He nods again and looks at me for a minute before focusing completely on whatever his task is. After a few minutes, the man asks me, "Where are you from?"

I turn my head to the right and find him no longer at the faucet, but at a spice cabinet. I don't question why he has a kitchen spice set in an hospital and answer him, "South Central then Pacific Palisades."

"Wow," he looks at me over his left shoulder, "That's quite the move."

I swallow the sticky spit in my mouth, "It's a long story."

"I would imagine," he smiles. He turns to the spices again, but then looks back at me and says, "I'm Doctor Alan Deaton."

I smile again, "I'm Selamawit."

He pauses for a minute, but then says, "Sudanese?"

"Probably," I weakly shrug, "I'm Egyptian though." I shrug again, "They share a border, though."

He nods and looks back at his spices, so I ask him, "What's a black man doing with an Irish surname?"

I can see him grin as he responds, "Well it all started in 1441…"

Scott and I burst out with twisted laughter. Doctor Deaton looks at us with his own smile, so I say, "That's deep, Doctor."

His smile widens, "I know Eastern Africa wasn't as accessible, but surely you know your histories."

"Well," I roll my wrists and flex my fingers, "I know my African histories, but clearly not my origins."

Doctor Deaton's smile slowly disappears, "It seems that all of you are unsure of this."

I just look at him.

He walks over to me with his arms full of flowers, stems and other shit in jars. He sets them down on a metal counter near me and says, "I'm going to need to fill the tub with water."

I grab the sides of the tub and start to push myself up.

"No, no, no," He objects, "We need to revive you."

I continue getting out of the tub, "Not in designer shit, we're not."

Scott laughs at me and helps me out of the tub. I start unzipping my red, Gucci boots when Isaac tosses thick, canvas aprons at me. I catch a few and the rest fall to the ground. I look up to ask him what he wants with these, but I see the crowd of people behind me and see his point.

Scott turns his back to me and stands in front of me to act as a human shield while everyone shifts uncomfortably and looks away as I undress and cover up with the aprons. Scott helps me back into the tub and Doctor Deaton starts to fill it with cool water. I shiver and ask, "Can the water be warmer?"

"Sure," he smiles and goes back to the faucet. The water becomes a comfortable temperature, so I relax against the tub, leaving my arms hanging over the sides. It's quiet the whole time the tub fills up, so when Doctor Deaton shuts off the faucet, I ask,

"Can we play some music or something? The quiet is unsettling."

He nods and takes out his phone. "What do you listen to?"

I shrug, "I could go for anything right now – Kid Cudi, Janelle Monáe, Queen Latifah…"

He starts taping the screen on his phone, "I'll see what I can YouTube."

I smile and whisper a "thank you" to him. I push the back of my hair up and over the tub as much as I could before I relaxed too much. Doctor Deaton saw how much I was sinking into the tub, so he beckons Isaac over and says, "Scott – you need to stay close in case they need help."

"They?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Help?" Isaac stutters.

Doctor Deaton smiles and says, "Just trust me, alright?"

I sigh and close my eyes, letting the water relax me. Suddenly, Doctor Deaton starts tossing the contents of the jars he was looking at earlier into the tub. They fizzle and pop in the water, causing me to shift and try to jump up. Doctor Deaton holds me down by the shoulders and says, "You need to keep calm so I can finish this as quickly as possible." Before I can reply with anything, his hands are replaced by another – the soft cream is familiar; the dark hair creeps up from the wrists to pale biceps. I swallow the excess spit in my mouth and allow myself to be steadied in the tub. I look up and then suppress an awkward grin and ask Isaac, "Why is your shirt off?"

He flashes me a small, crooked smirk, and whispers, "I can't do this while wearing designer."


	5. We Come Running

**Chapter 5 **

* * *

Oxygen Mask by Eisley is the song that comes up.

* * *

I smile up at Isaac, "Who spends money on a basic tee?"

He smirk turns into a smile, "Who spends money on basic boots?"

I chuckle once and playfully retort, "I'll have you know that those boots are anything but basic."

His smile turns into a much more serious face. He nods, "Yes, they're also scuffed and scratched."

I groan in disapproval, "Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not surprised. I didn't pack them right to move."

Isaac laughs, but is disrupted by Doctor Deaton saying, "I'm going to have to rub this cream onto your neck. Be as still as possible."

Once again, I swallow my excess spit and breathe in and out a few times to prepare myself. Isaac squeezes my shoulders, which relaxes me deeper into the water. Doctor Deaton pulls up a low stool and says to Isaac, "Before we start, you'll need to eat the carnations I left on the table."

Isaac lets go of me and walks over to the table. He brings the jar with him, eating the flowers on the way back to his seat. He scarfs them down and then squeezes my shoulders again. An eternity passes with me enjoying the warm bath; the popping flowers and miscellaneous herbs aside, the bath felt good. The warmth seeps into my bones – a tingle I haven't felt since the LA summer sun – and Isaac's large hands gently squeezing and releasing and squeezing soothed my core.

A skin peeling burn suddenly bursts in my neck and upper chest. I groan and shiver, doing my best to suppress my discomfort. Doctor Deaton must have noticed as he says, "You're doing great, Selamawit. Just be as still as possible."

I press my lips together and exhale.

Isaac presses his hands against my shoulder blades, pushing me off the tub a bit. I can feel Doctor Deaton's cool hands rub a hot, liquid-like mixture into the center of my back, my shoulder blades, the tops of my shoulders and up into my neck. I start to pant from the pain; the liquid feels like it has thickened into lava, eating away at my skin, but from the inside. I start to fidget in the tub, creating small waves in the tub. Isaac squeezes the tops of my shoulders, beginning an awkward massage – whether this is for my comfort or to push the liquid deeper into my body, I don't know. I try to focus on the relaxing pleasure of a gentle, yet firm touch, but my eyes snap open from the pain and I can see my deep, golden-brown skin shine. I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming at the odd sight, but the burn deepens, and the water that was previously warming my bones begins to melt them. The combined pains prove to be too much; I thrash around in the water despite Isaac's efforts to keep me pressed against the tub. I press my palms against the tub and spring myself to the other side to escape Isaac's grip, and, effectively, the tub, but he jumps into the tub and wraps his arms around my arms and torso in an attempt to subdue me. I thrash against his body, desperately trying to get out of the tub, but his grip refuses to loosen. I see Peter strumming the harp, so I start to sing, but, with a quick look around, I see that everyone has wax stuffed into his or her ears. Most people aren't even looking over at us. In fact, it's just Scott, who looks nervous and freaked, and Doctor Deaton, who is disturbingly calm.

I try to stare into Isaac's eyes, to tune into him. I try to sing to him, but I'm in too much pain to focus on him, so I put all my strength into inhaling deeply and rolling us over in the water. He starts to thrash now, fighting drowning. His grip loosens, so I shoot up, but I know he'll just grab me again, so I turn to face him. As expected, he pops up from the water and wraps his arms around my torso. My clawing and thrashing has tossed away my aprons and ripped his briefs all over. In a regular situation – or as much of a regular situation a family and friends outing to watch me soak can be – I would ask if his briefs are designer, too. I would be flirty and invite him to be just as naked as me, but my bones are the same consistency as my marrow, and somewhere between the water and blood of my body, underneath my skin, a fire is trapped, desperately trying to burn its way out into the open. So I slide my hands and arms up his muscular torso and grab onto his ears. I don't know when he managed to stuff his ears with wax, but I'll get it out.

Isaac leans away from me, thrashing himself around, shouting at me to just let the process finish, that we're almost finished.

Scott leans to slap my hands away, but he's not fast enough and I grip the wax and start to pull them out of Isaac's ears.

He braces himself for a wail – it looks like I'm screaming rather than desperately trying to get someone to hear my singing. Deaton reaches for my hands, trying to swat me away from Isaac's defense mechanisms, but it's too late. I pull them out and instantly rest my exhausted torso against his stiff one. His eyes are tightly shut and his whole face wrinkles with restraint, but he slowly opens his eyes and stares down at my calm, quiet body.

I press my left cheek against the front of his left shoulder and sigh, "I just want to be acknowledged."

He shakes his head from side to side and exhales. He grins and rolls his eye at me. Isaac rests against the back of the tub and hangs his huge arms off the sides of the tub. I slide my arms underneath his pits and rest my fingers into the tops of his shoulders to keep myself stable. I groan at the pain within my body, of the melting of my innards meeting the flames dancing just beneath my skin, so I burry my face in the right side of Isaac's neck.

He sighs, revealing his complete exhaustion, but manages to run his right hand from the small of my back, up to my neck, and into my poorly formed, soaked Mohawk—like afro. Isaac tilts his head back and looks at me from beneath his sagging lashes.

I smile up at him and exhale through my nose.

Never breaking eye contact with me he gently plays with my hair and tickles my neck.

I let go of his shoulders and grab onto the back of the tub so that I may push myself up so that we're eye level. I brush the tip of my nose against his and sing so quietly that if he weren't a wolf he wouldn't be able to hear me. "_Oh, you remember me, doubled over on the floor we start to read, and all the poetry convinces me that you were stolen from the waves at sea…_"

Isaac loosely wraps his right arm around my waist, squeezing me to his bare chest.

I get lost in his blue eyes for a moment, only ripping myself away to kiss his forehead just below his hairline. "_You're a vision of truth, and that's what I love…_" I kiss the bridge of his nose. "_Give me one more chance…_" I kiss the tip of his nose, "_You've got me breathing_ _through an oxygen mask…_" I go to kiss his lips, but someone pulls me away from him and sticks me to the bottom of the tub. Isaac sits up straight and dives after me, but Derek locks Isaac's arms through his and pulls him out and pinning him against the nearest wall, but Isaac doesn't fight him. Isaac stares at me while I lie peacefully at the bottom of the tub, but I'm quickly pulled back up to the surface. I spit out some water, all the while watching Isaac dry off and wrestle himself back into his clothes. I sigh and then lean against the back of the tub, my eyes never leaving Isaac despite Peter stepping to my side. I watch Isaac walk back over to his pack while I say to Peter, "I'm feeling particularly peaceful right now, but I will kill you if you ever pull that drowning shit again."

* * *

Once I absorbed all that I needed to from the bath, Allison handed me a towel and some pajamas she got from my room during my weird bath. We drove back in silence; Allison gently dried my hair once we were back in my room, promising me that she'd spend all day helping me find the best place in the bay area to get my hair repaired in the morning. We fall asleep in an awkward spooning with me on the edge of the bed, squeezing a large pillow to me; Allison sleeping diagonally, holding a beach towel around my hair.

Chris wakes us up by gently shaking me by the shoulders. I yawn and flutter my eyes open. "I'm too exhausted to deal with the super natural today."

He chuckles, but then quiets himself and says, "Well, eventually, we're going to have to train you on the obstacle course. And then you'll have to meet up with Deaton—"

"_Doctor_ Deaton," I interject.

Allison stirs from behind me, smacking her dry lips and asks what's going on, so I tell her, "White people always stripping us of our titles."

She chuckles with confusion.

Chris ignores us. "At some point you have to meet up with _Doctor_ Deaton and cultivate your… your powers," he sighs, "now that you have control."

"Control?," I say through a yawn while slowly getting up, all my hair springing up with me. I can feel the strained, stretched, kinky curls hang all over the place. I walk past my vanity and see the top of my hair all frizzed, fucked and flat. I groan at the sight and pull my hair up. Chris walks out of the room saying,

"We gotta get going within the hour."

"Alright," I shake my head and sigh.

Allison yawns and says, "I'm staying and sleeping."

"I don't blame you." I walk over to my bathroom and jump into the shower.


	6. Magnetic

**Chapter Six **

* * *

Despite being tired and burnt out from the month and a half of intensive training, from both the Argent's and Doctor Deaton, Chris thinks I should test out my skills in the real world, in real time. I've been going along with all the Argent shit, no matter how intense or ridiculous, but school started back in LA, so Quvenzhanè had to head back to LA last week, leaving this to be a very difficult couple of weeks. I've bonded with Allison and Scott and Lydia and Stiles and Isaac, too, to fill the void of my best friend being gone. Scott and Allison ran off whenever they could and Lydia largely ignored Stiles, leaving me time to bond one-on-one with Isaac. He refused to tell me about his father, or even how he avoided the foster system and moved in with Derek, but I figure he'll tell me in due time. Though, Allison has let it slip that his dad was a royal piece of shit, though everyone refuses to let me know how.

I sit quietly in the back seat of the SUV, wondering what that man could have done to Isaac to leave him stressed out in every step he takes, well after his father's death. Could beatings stay with him this long?

Chris pulls over on the edge of a meadow and interrupts my thinking, "We're here." I sigh and take a lookout of the window. The meadow is probably a very beautiful area, not just a huge, untouched field in Beacon Hills, but it's the dead of night and I can't really tell either way. I sigh and get out of the SUV before Chris can say anything else, so he shoots out of his seat and whispers in a low, trembling voice, "I will not come to your rescue. Allison," he spits out, "will not come to your aid. This is your practice field. We'll take you home, but you have to meet us on the other side."

I breathe in deeply and start to walk away.

Chris hops back into his SUV and slams the door behind him. Him and Allison speed off into the night; I roll my eyes at the screech of his tires and walk into the meadow. Doctor Deaton has taught me how to use my senses to not just live in the world, but to be in the world; I concentrate deeply, searching for the feeling of my vibrating atoms, so I breathe in deeply and close my eyes. The earth beneath my feet and the air gently swirling around my body tell me the true scenery of the quiet, still meadow. Derek and his wolves are scattered throughout the meadow, laying low in its flowers and grass, waiting for me to walk near enough to snatch; I smirk and walk a straight line through the high, wispy grass. I know that no matter how quiet I am that they're listening in on my footsteps, my breathing, my heartbeat, so I start to hum and let my smirk grow.

The sound of well landed, soft leaps start from well behind me. I pretend not to notice the sound until the wolf crouches to pounce. I step to the far left and watch Scott's body dig into the dirt. I chuckle under my breath, squat over his back, and run my fingernails down the sides of his neck. I softly sing to him, "These scratches don't hurt, but you'll be here for a bit."

Scott groans out and tries to push himself off the ground, but finds that his muscles are too relaxed to even flip him over, so I roll him over myself. I smile down at him and say, "I'd hate for your face to be stuck in the dirt. It's, well, dirty."

Scott laughs and I grin.

I continue on my path; I feel the breaks in the air and the misplaced weight in the earth in my vicinity. I crouch down and dig my fingertips into the surprisingly soft soil to scan for the nearest wolf. I tilt my head back and breathe in through my mouth and my nose before saying to myself, "Come on out, Derek." The weight in the earth displaces a bit; he hears me and he takes my invitation. I stay crouched until he runs up to me. I spring up and blast him back with his own force by slamming my hands against the tops of his ribs. He slides several feet back, digging deeper into the ground with each inch. I squat on top of his chest and run my fingertips up and down his neck while he digs his claws into my thighs. I bite my lower lip to brace against the pain, but the relaxation from my nails relaxes his muscles, forcing him to let go. I don't say anything while I walk away from him. I continue on my way, wondering if Peter is in this mess or if I'm just waiting for Isaac now.

I slide my hands into the side pockets of my Adidas soccer pants and gently scratch the sides of my thighs through the fabric. I begin to hum again while staring up at the night sky; the deep blue fabric of the universe, coated in the light of yellow stars and soaked in the infrared the human eye refuses to evolve to see, speaks out to me. It speaks out, telling me to be aware, to be humble, to be responsible, to be honorable. But our conversation is interrupted by the feeling of heavy, quick footsteps pounding toward me. I swing my arms up and grab Peter by his collar; I scratch the right side of his neck while tossing him to the ground. He doesn't even try to get up; instead, he grins and says, "Deaton has taught you well. Imagine what you'll learn with another few months."

I grin and wave goodbye by twinkling my nails at him. I slide my hands back into my pants and walk through the meadow quietly, peacefully. I can feel Isaac standing many feet from me, but he stands still, so I relax and make my way through this never ending meadow until I stumble upon a small pond that has several large rocks. I kick off my beat up gym Adidas at the shoals, pull off my socks and stuff them into my shoes, and then cross my arms against my body, fingering the bottom of my white tee before unwrapping it off of my body. I sigh and smile at the feeling of my toes buried in the odd mixture of just a bit of sand throughout a lot of cool dirt. I run my hands across my breasts, properly tucking them into my bra; then I run my fingers on the diamond like pattern of my straps, making sure they're still secure, before I leap onto a small rock in the middle of the pond. I climb onto the largest rock and wiggle around a bit before I find a comfortable seated position. And I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait.

I yawn.

And then I wait.

But then I grin and breathe in deeply. I sing in varying notes but without any actual words. I press my hands onto the top of the rock to feel the change of pressure in the Earth around me; Isaac goes from a stable standstill to a fidgety, nervous-like rocking from his toes to his heels, to a sudden sprint to me. He stumbles over my shoes and plops into the water, using the palms of his hands and the front of his knees to save himself from face planting. I giggle softly at his dampened form; he tilts his head up and rolls his eyes up to his brows to see me. He smiles sheepishly at my glistening form – the moonlight bounces off my skin, shimmering the gold and illuminating the deep brown. Isaac slowly gets to his feet and even more slowly wades through the water to get to me. His ears stretch back and become pointed; his eyes shift from blue to gold; the peach fuss on his cheeks grow out as sideburns; his teeth widen and sharpen; his arms and hands become hairy and his nails grow out into small daggers. I look him over – I know he can hear my heart beat faster, especially as he squeezes the flesh above my knees in his large, powerful hands.

I bend from the waist and gently hold the sides of his face in my hands.

His larger wolf lips part and his voice caresses words as they slip out, "I'm not quite sure how the rest of the pack expects to capture you."

I grin, "I'm not quite sure, either." I roll my head back, fully craning my neck in the soft moonlight, and shiver from the painful pleasure of my wings sliding out of my spine and decompressing, breaking through the skin of my back. His brows rise, his eyes widen, and his lips part a bit more at the sight of my giant, white feathered wings. I look back down at him, my eyes half closed, and I smile. I grab one of his hands and tug him forward, placing a hand against a section of my feathers. I look into his eyes and say, "Isn't funny that you're the same shade?"

He rolls his eyes and exhales through his nose – his lips too busy pressing into a smile to release a sigh. "Did you beckon me with your hymns to mock me?"

I laugh and shake my head lightly. "I beckoned you so I can finally go to bed. This exercise is taking too long."

He blushes and his voice softens, "I wasn't quite sure how to approach you. The others seemed to fail no matter which way."

My lips stretch into a wide smile. I let go of him and lean forward so much that my eyes can't focus on a clear picture of his face. "Well, now you know."

His eyes switch back and forth from my left eye to my right and back to my left. "To wait to be beckoned?"

I gently shake my head from left to right. "To arrive ready to worship."

He quietly laughs, "To arrive ready to accept your narcissism?"

I laugh, loudly, and pop up onto the boulder, squatting deeply and stretching my wings out to their full length. "I didn't say worship _me_."

Completely in awe, he rolls his bottom lip in and out of his mouth.

I jump straight off of the rock and into the air; I flex my wings forward and blast him back into the water. He lands on his ass and shakes his head at me. I grin and then turn away, flying over to the SUV. I land softly on the ground in front of the SUV; Allison and Chris are asleep in their seats. I tap on the windshield so that they wake up. They're startled from the noise, but then shocked by my form. Chris turns on the car and rolls down the window, but before he can give me any instructions, I say, "I'm tired. This took too long. I'm going to bed." I then crouch into a deep squat and jump straight up into the air, flexing my winds to blast me back and then fly high into the air, back to the Argent's house.

* * *

My eyes snap open, but my room and vicinity is calm and quiet. I breathe in deeply and run my hands up my neck, pushing all of my hair off of my neck and back onto my pillow. My head sinks back a bit, but I'm too groggy to care. I lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling as if there's anything to look at in the darkness. I yawn and turn my head to the left. I use my left hand to pull my hair back and away from my face, which tickles me, so I open my eyes for a quick second. Just as I go to rest my eyes once more, the sound of quiet climbing alarms me; I stare at my open window, knowing that something comes this way. I do my best to control my breathing, but I start to breathe nosily heavier, and my heartbeat rises despite telling myself to stay calm.

The moon shines at my window enough for me to see a figure pop half way in and place my beat up, gym Adidas onto the floor near my window. I smile and softly say, "You can come all the way in."

Isaac is clearly shocked to realize that I'm fully aware of the scene, as he slips a bit and almost falls out of the window. He scrambles inside to avoid falling two stories; once inside, he stares at me with drooping eyes. I lock sleepy eyes with him and gently pat to my right, "You can come here, if you want."

Isaac slowly walks to the edge of my bed and stares at me, his lips rolling in and out of his mouth, stretching into small smiles and then pressing together.

"You don't have to do anything you do not want to do."

He looks into my almost closed eyes.

"We're friends." I smile, letting the truth of the statement warm my body.

His smile grows and the edges of his eyes lift.

I untuck the summer, satin sheets in one, swift tug and roll onto my side. Isaac takes off his shoes and goes to lay down with me, but I wave my left hand at him and say, "Don't put your dirty clothes in my clean bed."

He laughs under his breath and slowly and quietly strips down into his boxer briefs and his socks. He gulps and stares at the floor while I act like his glorious form is nothing special. He catches me drinking him in, so he grins and looks at me from beneath his drooping lashes, "You don't want my dirty clothes, but you'll take my sweaty body?"

I grin.

He stretches his arms up unnecessarily, "Are we friends?"

I roll my eyes with amusement, "You tell me. But in the morning." I slide my right hand under my pillow and yawn. "I'm going to bed. You can sleep standing or come here."

Isaac laughs and gently crawls onto my bed and lies down next to me. He lies on his back, staring at the ceiling for a bit, before turning onto his left side, too. I snuggle up to his back and loosely wrap my arm around his waist to spoon him. I burry my nose into the space of his neck between his shoulder and the base of the neck and whisper to him, "Thanks for bringing me back my shoes."

I can feel the hairs on his neck stand up from my cool breath. He yawns and then whispers back, "And your shirt."

I creep my right hand up from beneath my pillow and gently massage his scalp. "Relax for once."

I can hear him swallow the excess spit in his mouth as he relaxes his body, letting his bare back rest against my oversized white tee. He falls asleep squeezing my hand, which is loosely pressed against his fantastic abdomen, and I fall asleep rubbing his head.


	7. Strawberry Bubblegum

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

My eyes flutter open; I have one leg curved over Isaac and I'm bent backward from the waist, clutching onto the pillow beneath my head. I move my hips to stretch my back, but the soft movement from my leg wakes Isaac. He stirs a bit and yawns loudly. He breathes in deeply and runs his hand from the back of my knee to the ankle. I hear him gulp as he turns his head to the left to see me. I look at him with half open eyes and say, "I need to go back to school shopping, if you want to go with me."

He runs his tongue over his dry lips and replies in a low, soft voice, "I don't have the money for that."

I retract my leg and eventually get out of bed so that I may shower. "All I have is money."

He smiles at me with his eyes softening and his brows dipping. "Thank you."

I nod at him and then yawn into my hands. "I'm going to take a shower. Then we can go."

"Okay," he breathes and closes his eyes.

I take my time in the shower, so I'm not surprised when I walk out and he's quietly snoring. I tip toe to my closet, dry off and discard my towel. I quickly slip into my underwear, but I fumble a bit with sliding into a thin, purple turtleneck and as black bandage skirt. I walk out of my closet with my towel in one hand and a pair of purple heels in the other. Isaac lies still, watching me walk around the room in search of my keys. I look at him in my peripheral and quickly roll my lips at the sight of his near-naked body. His arms are folded behind his head, propping his head up a bit, which ever so slightly strains his square jaw and the thick neck that leads into perfect shoulders and cut arms. I look away and bite my bottom lip; wolves can smell out even the slightest bit of arousal. I'm usually pretty good in keeping myself calm, but his wide, muscular torso and powerful, chiseled legs prove to be too much for me to handle. I squeeze my thighs together and roll my hips a bit to calm myself before asking him, "Ready to go?"

Isaac doesn't reply. He sits up and stretches a bit before getting up. I don't even try to resist rolling my eyes over his body as he puts on his pants. The muscles in his back bulge with his every movement, especially when he slides his shirt on. I suppress a sigh as he slips back into his shoes and walks toward me. I put my shoes on, too, and then head out to my car with Isaac walking silently next to me.

"Do you want to listen to anything in particular?" I ask him as I close my door and strap myself.

"No," he shakes his head, "I'm fine with whatever."

I grin at him while turning the car on, "Then welcome to the Ghetto University."

Isaac laughs and buckles his seat belt.

I pull out of the driveway and hand him my phone. "Can you please press shuffle on the first playlist?"

"Sure," he mumbles and swallows the excess spit in his mouth.

Andre Nickatina immediately blasts within the crowd, making me smile but taking Isaac by surprise. I laugh at his face and say, "You look like you just jumped out of the way of a blow torch."

Isaac laughs and rolls his head a bit.

* * *

I park in paid parking for Union Square and basically drag Isaac into Saks Fifth Avenue Men's. He protests, but I put my right index finger on his lips – I take a moment to enjoy the contrast of my dark skin against his pale skin – and say, "Every month, I save half a million dollars for myself. Even if or… when my dad drops me, I'll be fine for the rest of my life. This is his credit card licensed to me. And only to me. There is no spending cut. He wants me to buy expensive things. He wants the world to know he is the top ten of wealthy. So don't feel guilty."

Isaac smiles and says, "Okay."

I don't have to drag him into the store anymore, but I hold onto his hand anyway. The store is filled with old white women, middle-aged white women with their daughters, and wealthy men who let their younger wives dress them. Instead of looking at each other, wondering why so many women are in a men's store, buying clothes that do not fit their bodies, they all, almost in sync, stare at me. These women and their daughters are probably buying clothing for their husbands, their boyfriends, their brothers, their friends. But why would I be in here? Accompanied by a man – accompanied by a _white man_. He can't by me things. He doesn't need my opinions on his clothing.

I use my free fingertips to push my 'fro up from all around my face. I squeeze Isaac's hand so hard that he flexes his fingers and his palms while looking down at me. He whispers, "Are you okay?"

I breathe in deeply and exhale quietly. I stand a bit closer to him and say, "I just hate being stared at."

Isaac looks around and sees all the eyes on me, following me, tracking me. He lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around me. He smiles at me and says, "Fuck'em."

A single, loud laugh rips from my lips, but I quickly quiet myself to avoid further judgment. We troll around all the clothes for a while before I look up at him and watch him look at a rack of coats. I walk up to him and ask, "I don't mean to be rude or anything…"

He looks at me with a slight furrow in his brow.

I roll my lips in and out of my mouth before continuing, "You wear some of the same things a lot… Do you want a, a bigger wardrobe?"

His mouth twitches into a small smile.

I take a step back, "I mean, not to like diss your style or anything. But we're here now and I don't mine buying a bunch of things."

Isaac's smile grows. "That'd be really nice." He looks around quickly and then whispers, "I've changed a lot since turning, so a lot of my clothes just don't fit anymore."

"I know," I nod and grin, "I've noticed."

He blushes and shakes his head before going back to the coats. I walk away and wander for a while, collecting cute things on my walk back to him. He holds all of the clothing and I follow him to a dressing room. I'm probably not supposed to actually follow him into the actual dressing room, but no one stops me, including Isaac, so I go with him. I sit down in the provided lounge chair and hold onto the clothing that doesn't come with hooks. Isaac slides off his shoes and strips back down to his boxer briefs. He looks at me over his shoulder, blushes, and quickly gets into a pair of navy blue twill pants that have a couple of cargo pockets. The pants are a little snug, but my goodness they're wonderful.

I cross my right leg over my left knee and squeeze my thighs together. I keep my breathing at a normal rate while I watch him slip on an undershirt I grabbed, and then a put on a white button up. He turns to me and asks, "Well, how does I look?"

_Fucking fantastic. Too fucking good. Like you need to claw it all off and get on me. _"Good." I smile.

He smiles at me and then turns back around. He inspects the outfit in the mirror and then takes the clothes off to replace them with a pair of grey, Alexander McQueen jeans. He slips on a peace colored, long sleeve, cashmere shirt I grabbed him, and then twirls for himself in the mirror. He stands sideways, looking at his front and back, and then says, "You have good taste."

_I taste good, too_. "Thanks," I say, swallowing all of the spit in my mouth and squeezing my legs together as much as I can manage. Isaac goes through the giant stack we came in and has decided on a decently sized "yes" pile. I go to get up, but I realize that the second that my legs open, he's going to smell all of my self-restraint, so I hand him all the clothes and tell him I'm going to put up all the clothing in the discard pile. At first, he agrees, but then turns around at the dressing room door and says,

"I'd rather have these people know that you're buying these clothes rather than think you work here, putting things away."

I sit, in shock, and just look at him. His arms full of clothes, his stance a little awkward and unstable, and his face stretched with care, waiting for my response. I sit up and hesitate a bit to get up, but I figure he's too focused on these clothes to sniff me out, so I stand up. He hands me all the clothes, shuffling them unevenly into my arms. I smile and walk away, but I pause at the door and look at him over my shoulder. "Thank you."

He looks at me while gathering the clothing he doesn't want, "For what?"

I open the dressing room door, "For understanding."

He smiles at me and watches as I walk away. I wait in line to be rung up and I ignore all the eyes on me. Isaac walks up to me and then takes the clothes from my arms. I smile and fish around my purse for my wallet. Once I find my wallet, I hold it securely to my stomach until it is our turn to pay. A super tall, super thin, blonde girl starts ringing us up. She greets me and then focuses completely on Isaac. I roll my eyes and take out my credit card. She stares at Isaac once she's done ringing everything up, so I slowly step in front of him and hand her my card. She clears her throat and smiles at me while quickly yanking the card from my fingers. She looks up at me while running my card and then giggles, "It's hard to see past your nappy hair."

"That's funny," I grind my teeth a bit and then tilt my head to the left. I force a giggle, "I can see everything through your spaghetti strings."

She gasps and slams my card down. "Miss! Saks Fifth does not tolerate such rude behavior."

I laugh out loud and then ask for her manager – which she only retrieves once Isaac insists upon it. I find my teeth, cross my arms over my chest, and beginning tapping my right foot. An older white lady approaches the counter with the blonde girl and says, "I'm sorry for this inconvenience, but what seems to be the problem?"

I sign off the receipt and put my card back into my wallet. "Despite being at the counter together, I had to physically put myself in front of this gentleman to receive any service. And then the little bit of contact I was granted, I was told my _nappy _hair is too large to view anything else."

The older lady tenses and looks at the blonde. She beckons a different employee from the floor to properly fold and put away the clothes I just bought for Isaac. Then she looks at me and says, "I'm very, very sorry about this. If you would like to let me run your card, I can discount your purchase, and I can provide you with the proper number for this complaint."

I breathe in deeply and hand her my card, but I ask her, "Why can you not take this complaint?"

She swipes my card and then looks at me, "I take these sort of complaints very seriously. All customers are welcome in this shop, and I firmly believe that such negative experiences should be reported to HR – which I will be doing, but if you would like to personally complain, you have every right to do so."

I calm down and swallow the excess spit in my mouth. I gently take my card back from her, sign the new receipt as she rips up the old one, and say, "May I get your name?"

I read the blonde girl's tag and write down "Brittney" on the back of my customer copy receipt. The older lady looks at my writing hand and says, "Rebecca."

I smile at her and say, "Well, thank you, Rebecca. I'll be sure to mention your level head and seriousness."

She smiles at me and writes the store number on the receipt for me. Isaac then grabs his bags and quietly walks out of the store with me; I hold his hand tightly and keep my head high all the way out. The second we step out of the store, he looks at me, so I say, "I'm sorry if that looked like it was blown out of portion –"

He cuts me off, "No one should feel the right to make deliberately degrading commentary, masked in a giggle."

I smile and sigh a sigh of relief.

He squeezes my hand and smiles at me. Comfortable in our silence, we make our way to Bloomingdales for my own shopping. I smile at the posters of black models on the wall and wander around, grabbing handfuls of clothing. Isaac gives me his opinions as I ask for them, occasionally pointing out potentially flattering clothing. He's so quiet that the dressing room attendant doesn't notice him walk into the dressing room with me. He plops down on the lounge chair and places his bags on either side. I laugh and playfully shake my head; I put the clothes with hangers up, and I put all the folded items on Isaac's lap. He sits, silently, as I undress and try on all the different combinations of clothing that I picked up. Once I get to a deep, shimmering, copper dress, I turn sideways and run my hands down my sides, smoothing the fabric. It's pretty tight, so I test out it's comfortably by bopping around a bit to the store radio. I sway a bit and bop my head to Justin Timberlake's smooth, "Strawberry buuuubleguuuumm—"

Isaac clears his throat and says, "That uh, that looks nice."

I turn my head to the right and smile, "Thanks. I just don't know to where I'd wear this." I look back at the mirror and lightly pull at the peplum. One, full-length sleeve rests smoothly on my skin. The sleeve cuts sharply and diagonally to just beneath my pit; the glossy fabric hugs my breasts and the peplum sets a transition to my wide hips. I tug a bit at the end of the skirt, bringing it closer to my mid thigh. It's supposed to go down to my knees, but my ass hogs a lot of the fabric; I turn my back to the mirror and see the shimmering fabric fight to not rip down my backside. I sigh and then look at Isaac's face.

His eyes and brows are relaxed, almost like he's in a groggy haze; his mouth is slightly open and his body has sunken into the chair. I laugh at him, which brings him back to reality. He scrambles up and back into a regular seated position. I shake my head and go to say something sassy, but I see a bulge in his jeans. I focus on his eyes and try to tune out the clearly sexual song while I think to myself, _don't look at it don't look at it don't look at it don't look at it don't look at it don't look at it don't look at it don't look at it_, but then I dip my eyes for the slightest of seconds and look back at his eyes. I gulp and say, "I don't think I'll get this one."

"It looks nice either way," he shakes his head a bunch.

I turn around and wiggle and fight my way out of the tight fabric. I can see my ass shake in the mirror, and I can see Isaac's mouth hang open and his wide eyes glued to me. I suppress a laugh at both him and the timing of the song: "_Cause she's just like nothing that I've ever seen before…_"

I bite my bottom lip and try to sneak a glance at his growing bulge without being too obvious, though he's so stuck in being obvious he does not notice me noticing him.

"_You're delicious on your own. After I break you down my fingers, it's so sweet—that's what you told me when I touched on your lips._"

I fidget a bit, feeling myself, once again, grow warm with desire.

"…_towel under the door, girl, before they pick up your scent ah…"_

My cheeks burn at the lyric, so I quickly get back into my turtleneck and skirt, thinking to myself, Oh mother bear I'm going to ride you across the fucking ocean you gorgeous motherfucker.

"Be my strawberry bubbleguuum, gonna_ be your blueberry lolliiipooooooopppp_, _and then I'll love you 'til I make it pop…"_

Isaac pops up out of the chair and tries to cover himself with all the bags. We awkwardly walk out of the dressing room, I desperately hoping he can't smell me, and I'm sure he's desperately hoping that I can't see him. I buy the clothes with minimal dilly dallying. We rush back to the car to be seated once more; I play Tetris with our bags in the trunk and then hop in. I quietly sigh and brace myself for his realization. Walking around has brought him back down to normal, but I'm going to have to part my legs to properly drive.

So I put on my seat belt.

I turn the car on.

I part my right leg from my left so that I may reach the pedals.

I turn my head to safely pull out, and I can see Isaac grin and blush, doing his best to not stare at my lap.

* * *

**A/N: The smut will be soon, muhaahhaha**


	8. ROAR

**Chapter Eleven**

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**This here: (youtube [dot com slash] watch?v =Gn23sLfnh8g) is the song that is used below. I scramble up the lyrics in the story, and the link provided in the youtube description holds a better pitch, but you don't even have to listen to it. I just think it adds a great element to a reading experience.**

* * *

I tried to fight off my dirty thoughts, but then I asked myself, What's the use? He can definitely hear my heartbeat. He has already smelt me. He's holding a couple of bags on his lap, so clearly he's more focused on not being embarrassed than focusing on me.

I look at Isaac from the corner of my eye and grin. We drive the half an hour back to Beacon Hills listening to music and not talking. I pull up in the McCall driveway in no time; I carry half of Isaac's bags and he carries the other half up to his room. Scott walks into the room as I carefully start unpacking.

"Whoa," he stops after walking a few feet in, "Where did you guys go?"

"Saks Fifth," I reply and collect a bunch of hangers from Isaac's closet. I carefully hang up the tops and gently set them down on his bed.

Scott walks over to the bed, "Why?"

"Why not?" Isaac says while pulling old clothing out of his drawers. He tosses the pants he has out grown onto the floor and walks over to the bed, unpacking the pants we bought.

Scott shrugs and starts to put the hanged shirts up in the closet. "Are you playing lacrosse this year?"

"Yeah," Isaac nods, "I'm imagining you'll be team captain again?"

"I think so, but we'll see what coach wants."

They babble on about what to expect this Monday from their coach and the readings for his economic class. I guess they asked me a question because Isaac says, "Selamawit?"

I turn my head to the right to look at him. "Yea?"

"You're staying here for high school, right?"

"Yeah," I breathe in deeply and go back to organizing the shirts in his closet.

"Good, good," Scott sighs and then runs his hands through his hair. "I have a feeling this is going to be a stressful year, and with Jackson gone, we need all the people we can get."

I laugh, "Was he really that useful?"

Scott grins, "Well, the numbers help."

I nod and then say, "It's important to keep in mind that I am not a part of your pack. I am literally only obligated to Peter and Derek, and even then, my responsibilities are few."

Scott sits on the foot of Isaac's bed. "That's true, but I think you'll come around and help us a lot."

I laugh and shake my head, "This shit is not for me."

"It wasn't for me, either."

Isaac and I look at Scott at the same time.

Scott looks at Isaac and then me, "I just got bitten in the forest, everybody else said yes."

Isaac breathes in sharply, "Not all of us had good lives."

I lead against the frame of the closet door and watch them talk.

Scott looks at Isaac, "I don't blame you for your choices."

Isaac shakes his head and continues putting his new pants away, "Being a werewolf has not solved my problems…" I can hear him swallow his spit, "Honestly, Jackson solved my problems."

I look at Scott's tensing body, then at Isaac's head, which is hanging in shame. Scott sits straighter; his face looks strained, like he's looking for something to say to Isaac, who is frozen in place against the open dresser. I watch them for a moment, but nothing changes, so I slowly walk toward Isaac and toss my turtleneck onto his bed. I feel my bra straps and make sure they're secure in their diamond shape before tightly hugging Isaac from behind. I press my face between his shoulder blades and do my best to quiet my groan while my wings slide out of my spine and through my skin. I hear Scott gasp – he must have never been around the few times I've whipped these out. But this isn't the time to explain anything to him; I close my huge wings around Isaac and loosen my grip on him as he starts to budge. Without lifting his head, he turns and falls onto his knees. Isaac buries his face into the warm flesh of my stomach; I do my best to not flex my muscles as he is probably looking for a pillow and not my forming abs.

Isaac sobs as quietly as he can into my flesh; his cool tears, warm mucus, and hot, quivering lips soak the tender flesh of my stomach. He wraps his arms around my legs and ass tighter than I've ever been squeezed in my life, but it's not for too long. After a few minutes of sobbing, Isaac starts to control his breathing and rests the left side of his face against the flesh just above my vagina. I lower my wings for a second and check to see if Scott is still here – he is, and his eyes are wide and still staring at me, so I mouth at him, "harp." He slowly nods but then bolts off of the bed. I look back down at Isaac and start to swirl the fingers on my left hand through his short, curly hair. I gently beat my wings in rhythm with my breathing to cool him down a bit; it gets got in here, and even hotter if you're upset.

A few silent minutes pass before Scott tip toes into the room and gently places my Kissar near us. A few more silent minutes pass before Isaac sighs and murmurs, "I'm sorry."

I gently run my fingernails up the back of his neck, through his hair, and back down to the base of his neck. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

Hot breath escapes from his mouth and absorbs into my skin. "I've slobbered and oozed all over your stomach."

I smile down at him, "That's nothing to be upset about."

He looks up at me – his forehead squeezing in the middle, his brows trying to mesh together, his eyes pink and puffy. Isaac doesn't say anything, and he doesn't have to. I can see a life's worth of pain, of self-loathing, of disappointment, of fear, in all his pores, in all his tearstains, in the depths of his eyes. He rests his face against my stomach for a moment and then rolls his eyes as far up as they'll go. He locks eyes with me and whispers, "I can smell your desire."

I blush.

He breathes in deeply through his slightly open mouth, "I can smell it all the time."

I laugh and smile at him, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

His face softens a bit and his lips stretch into a small smile, "I know you want me, but…but…"

He trails off, so I ask in my softest voice, "But what?"

He licks his dry lips and says, "But do you love me?"

I feel my heart shatter in my chest. I slowly drop to my knees so that I may be eye-level with him. I loosely rewrap my wings around us while cradling his face in my hands and say, "When I first met you I couldn't tell if my heart twitched or my clitoris exploded."

His eyes and brows scrunched with horror and humor.

I laugh, shake my head and then look back into his eyes. "I watched you dress today and promised myself that I'd save on airfare and ride you across the ocean."

Isaac laughs once, but loudly.

I slide my left hand from his cheek to the back of his head toward his ears and neck; I slide my right hand from his face, to his shoulder to the middle of his back and press his body against mine. I run my fingers through his hair and lightly against his skin while I whisper into his right ear, "I see you sweat in practice and I'm amazed by how much you exert yourself; I see you find your anchor faster than any of the other wolves and I'm in awe by your indomitable will; I see your tiny mannerisms and I wonder why they're never jerky – not when you're talking, not when you're putting things away, never. And when I sing I can feel your blood dancing in your veins, swirling through your body, holding on tightly too your soul, and I can't feel that during practices, I don't feel that when I'm tricking other wolves or other people. I feel like you let me tap into your heart and I sing the things that it's hard for you to tell yourself rather than me luring you to a possible death."

Isaac chuckles a little, his body relaxing against mine.

I lift my left wing a bit and use it to push the Kissar close enough for me to grab. I beat a light breeze onto Isaac's face for a second before wrapping him back up in both of my wings; I feel his head relax onto my shoulder as my feathers tickle his ankles.

I let go of his back instead of stopping playing with his hair. I use my newly freed hand to strike a few notes on the Kissar. I focus deeply on his heartbeat, the pace of his breathing, the feeling of his warm breath, the sound of his blood rushing through his body, swirling all around his core; I focus absolutely on him; my fingers create a sound with the strings and I can feel my lips part, my breath settling deep in my lungs just to softly slip out of my heavy lips, "_I used to bite my tongue and hold my breath,_ _scared to rock the boat and make a mess._ _So I sat quietly, agreed politely_. _I guess that I forgot I had a choice_. _I let you push me past the breaking point_. _I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything._"

Isaac wraps his arms tightly beneath my rips, pressing one hand into the small of my back and the other beneath a wing and against a shoulder blade.

"_You can be amazing, you can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug. You can be the outcast, or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love. Or you can start speaking up_."

I can hear his breathing starting to hitch; I can feel his chest tighten against my body.

"_You held me down, but I got up, already brushing off the dust. You hear my voice, you hear that sound – like thunder, gonna shake the ground. You held me down, but I got up. Get ready cause I've had enough. I see it all, I see it now._"

His claws start to come out, but he doesn't cut my skin. Rather, he further buries his face into the crook of my neck and starts to cry again.

"_Say what you wanna say, and let the words fall out. Honestly I wanna see you be brave._"

Isaac squeezes me so tightly it becomes hard to sing for him – to let out the beat vibrating in his veins.

"_Now I'm floating like a butterfly, stinging like a bee I earned my stripes. I went from zero, to my own hero_."

He loosens his grip, but his breathing and crying stay the same.

"_I just wanna see you, I just wanna see you, I wanna see you be brave._"

His body begins to tremor.

"_Nothing's gonna hurt you like your own words do._"

His quiet sobs turns into a single, loud wail, then quickly back into a quiet sob.

"_I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire, cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me ROAR. Louder, louder than a lion – Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me ROAR._"

Isaac suddenly rips his face from my shoulder and neck and lets me go. I drop the Kissar from the sudden movement and Isaac grabs my face. He kisses me – hard, with passion, with fire, with need and with relief.

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**A/N: Please comment! Comments feed me more than food.**


	9. Now is the Time

**Chapter Twelve**

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The right thing to do would be pull away and not take advantage of an emotionally unstable god-I mean, boy. But I've been trying to kiss him for months now. I've lured him with my voice only to have someone in his pack pull him away from me. I've put my body close to his and he's never gone for it. And here we are now. Here I am now – wide, shocked eyes; quivering lips; hands shaking and grabbing in the air; a tingling vagina, wonder if it should be on fire or be on fire and feel guilty about it.

I roll my eyes at myself and squeeze Isaac to me. I run one hand through his hair and I run my other hand underneath his shirt and all around his back, feeling all his muscles flex and stretch. Isaac lets go of my face and wraps his arms around my torso. The tears and snot he left on my stomach sticks to his shirt as he grinds his upper body against mine. We make out passionately, feverishly, desperately, for a while. When he pulls away he stares at me with half open eyes and pants. He smiles at me, plants one, hard kiss, on my mouth and then trails soft kisses down my lips, down my chin and all over my neck. I groan and roll my eyes back as he nips around, trying to find a sweet spot. I dig my nails into his neck and back while gasping once he does find a tender spot on my neck. He starts to stand up and he tries to squeeze me up with him, so I flap my wings to help us get up with balance. I wrap my legs around him once we're standing, and he walks us over to his bed and falls down onto it, landing on me with all his weight. I cough and groan from the sudden impact; Isaac laughs, his cheeks burning red, and then gets in a push-up position above me.

I wiggle a bit, but his shirt is stuck to my stomach. He looks down, sees that, and then laughs, "I'm so sorry – that is disgusting."

I laugh and say, "I have been cockblocked every fucking day since I've met you. A little bit of snot is not going to be a deal breaker."

Isaac tilts his head back and laughs wildly. This position forces his lower body to arch into mine, grinding his huge, clothed erection against my panties. I softly groan and roll my head to my left, nuzzling my cheek into the soft fabric of his comforter. My eyes flutter open to see Scott still sitting on the edge of the bed, his face still the same shocked as it was when I first unleashed my wings. I jerk up a bit and wrap my wings around Isaac. Isaac fidgets a bit, so I slowly lower them back down. He looks to the right and then jerks up a bit, "What the hell are you still doing here?"

"…I…I'm not quite sure." Scott's forehead wrinkles and his brows droop with uncomfortable confusion.

I stare at Scott angrily.

Isaac waves his head around and then looks at Scott with angry eyes, "Well, can you leave?"

Scott presses his lips together, nods 'yes,' and then gets up. Isaac kisses me suddenly and deeply once Scott shuts the door behind him. I moan into his mouth as he begins to grind his erection against me, but the feel of his jeans against my thin cotton panties begins to hurt, so I lightly push him off of me. He instantly responds to me and looks down with concerned eyes, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

I smile, my face softening from his kindness. I cup his face in my right hand, sigh, and say, "I'm so happy you're not a piece of shit."

He laughs as his cheeks burn red, and then he rubs his face into my hand.

I press my upper body against his, slowly bringing us into a seated position. I pull away from his lips with a sigh. I rest my nose against the side of his nose and look down at our stomachs; I quickly tug his shirt off of my sticky belly, making us both chuckle. I look at him and say, "I need to unpack my things and I clearly need to shower."

Isaac moves back a bit and tugs at the bottom of his shirt, "And I need to wash this."

I laugh and then lunge forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him with a force I didn't know I had. I shake my wings to shed my feathers before swiftly pulling them back into my body. Isaac breaks away from me and says, "That's amazing."

I smile and get off of him and the bed. I put my turtleneck back on, but I don't pull it down over my sticky lower stomach. He grins, so I say, "I can't have snot on my designer shit."

He laughs and shakes his head, "Are all of your clothes designer?"

I slip my feet back into my heels, as I kicked them off when Isaac fell on me. "Pretty much." I turn my head to the left to look at him, "And now most of your clothes are also designer."

"Touche," he laughs and lies down amidst all my feathers. He picks one up and twirls it in his hands, "Do they just appear when your wings come out?"

I nod, "Sort of like your teeth and nails and hair."

He nods and keeps twirling a feather. I grab my car keys and then walk over to him. I lean over the bed a bit to give a long, slow, soft kiss. When we part I sigh and then whisper, "I'll be back later."

He smirks, "I'll be waiting."

"Good," I grin and head out.

* * *

I toss all my bags onto the floor near my closet and then hop into the shower. I scrub my whole body with bar soap, fancy liquid scrub so that I smell like heaven, and then moisturize so I'm soft wherever he figures out he can touch me. I compliment myself on the foresight to get myself waxed a few days ago, and then jump out of the shower. I toss on some white jeans and a navy blue top before rushing back toward the door. Chris stops me right before I grab the handle. "School is starting in a few days."

I practically snap my neck to look at him. "So what?"

"So," he sighs, "You and Allison need to get back to your regular sleeping patterns."

_ Are you serious oh my goodness I'm about to start a regular sleeping pattern, Chris._

He nods up to the staircase, "Go to bed."

I groan, and roll my head back, "Chris, I need to go. This is important."

He walks a foot past me and locks the front door. "Nothing's more important than being prepared for an education."

I sigh with irritation and drag my feet to the staircase. He watches me trot up the stairs and then wanders into the living room. I make my way back to my room, but I knock on Allison's door first. She opens it as I knock and says, "What?"

I step back a bit and scrunch up my face.

She smiles and sighs, "Sorry, that came out harsh."

I laugh, "Yeah, anyway, what time does your dad go to bed."

Allison turns her head and looks around for her clock. Still looking at the time, she says, "He'll be in bed in half an hour and asleep in another half."

"Okay," I nod and run my hands down the back of my neck, "An hour then."

"Why?" She turns to face me again. With a grin, Allison asks, "Where are you off to?"

I grin at her and start to walk away. "I think I've finally stepped forward with a certain werewolf."

She giggles and gasps in one weird motion, raising her brows and then winks, "Good luck."

I laugh and then go back to my room. I lock the door behind me and turn on some music. I keep the volume low and start playing with my phone. I grin to myself and then transfer my phone to my left hand. I wiggle my right hand beneath my waistband and text Isaac, "I can't leave until Chris falls asleep."

Almost immediately, Isaac texts me back saying, "When will he be asleep?"

I laugh and playfully roll my eyes. "About an hour."

His reply isn't as instant: "I think Melissa will be off her shift in an hour."

I toss my head back and groan out of frustration. I wiggle my hand back out of my pants and then sit up. I will not be denied when I am this fucking close. "Then we'll have to be quiet ;)" I toss my phone onto my bed and roll off of my bed. I squat down and pull out a small trunk from beneath my bed. I hear my phone vibrate as I swivel the numbers on the small lock. I pop the trunk open and then grab my phone.

"You're too beautiful for me to be quiet."

My eyes soften, my lips stretch into a smile, and my cheeks burn. But then scrunch my brows and forehead with concern, "We don't have to have sex if you don't want to."

I sigh and sit my phone down on the closest edge of the bed toward the trunk. I carefully unwrap the pieces of my bong from their towel and set it on the ground near me. I take out a small glass bottle of weed and my grinder from beneath it, and then I carefully place a small bud in my grinder. I hear my phone go off again, but I take a minute to pack a small bowl first. I nod my head with pride that I didn't spill anything anywhere and slowly put the bowl back into the bong. I grab a water bottle out of my trunk, fill the bong, and then cap the bottle. I then grab my phone and read his text.

"No! I want to I just don't know" I roll my eyes at his unfinished text and pocket my phone. I fish out a lighter from the trunk and take the bong over to my window. I leave the bong on the ledge, turn on the fan from my bathroom, and then come back to the window. My phone vibrates in my pocket as I open up my window. I'm sure it's Isaac finishing up his text, but I take a quick hit first to clear the bong. I take my phone out while walking over to the trunk to grab the water bottle. "I've never had sex before."

I bop my head back and crumple my lips together. I bit the inside of my bottom lip for a minute before responding, "That's fine." Then I shake my head and shoot off another text, "If you're too nervous or want to save your virginity, I respect that."

I take another hit; this one is longer and harder and I do my best not to cough everywhere. I lean against the wall and grab my phone as it vibrates. "I want you tonight. I'm just afraid to disappoint."

I smile and my eyes droop a bit. I take a quick hit and then say, "I'll show you the basics of what you need to know."

I press my back against the wall and enjoy my buzz while waiting for his reply, which comes quickly. "Does that include riding me across the ocean?"

I laugh out loud but quickly quiet myself. I decide on one last, long, hard hit, which finishes up my bowl. I cough all over the place and chug down some water to get my shit together. I dump out the ashes from the bowl and the water from the bong, carefully pack it all back up, and then plop down on my bed. "All seven."

I don't even put my phone down before he responds, "I'm sure Chris is in bed by now."

I laugh but then see thirty-five minutes have passed. I shake my head and say to myself, "I am too high to realize time." Then I sigh, "I am too high to drive." I go to text him that, but then I grin and laugh diabolically. I jump off, strip off my shirt and flex my back to pop my wings out. I slide my phone safely into my pants pocket, clutch my shirt in my hands, and then leap out and up from the window ledge. I quickly flutter my wings to hover for a second. I'm just high enough to not feel their initial, stinging pain, so I take off toward the McCall House. I get fucked up in the breeze a few times, but I remain high enough in the sky to not be seen. It takes me a good half an hour to get to Isaac's window despite it really only being ten minutes away, but the cold air and getting lost and greatly sobered me up.

His window is open, so I quietly crouch and land a few feet in front of his window. I shed all my feathers and grind my teeth as my wings retract into my spine. I toss my shirt on and then lay down on the middle of his bed. I close my eyes to avoid staring at the shadows in his dark room, but I'm soon pleasantly surprised by the feeling of his quivering lips on my soft ones. I smile against his lips and lift my left hand into his hair. I twist his curls between my fingers, enticing soft moans from his throat. He lams down his right hand near my head and stretches his left hand to my waistband. I grin and then nibble on his bottom lips as he wiggles his huge hand between my jeans and my panties. His fingers are give very little wiggle room, but he does his best to slip his fingers over my mound. I sigh as he parts my lips through my panties; his fingers stumble around my folds, paying extra attention to the places that make me gasp. I pull away from his lips and whisper, "I thought you're a virgin."

He presses his lips beneath my let ear and laughs, "A virgin, not an idiot."

I suppress a laugh, "So you locked your door then?"

He quickly retracts his hand and jumps off of me. I giggle as I hear the door latch, but then I whisper, "Turn the light on."

"What?"

I sit up and sit on the edge of the bed, "Turn. The. Light. On."

His voice quivers, "Why?"

"So I can see you."

He sighs but flicks the light switch. He turns to look at me and immediately laughs out loud. I'm sure my hair is a mess from the window and my eyes are pink. "What the fuck happened to you."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "I flew here."

"High as a kite, huh?"

I laugh but quiet myself. "I'd have had to fly no matter what since the car would be too loud and obvious."

Isaac smiles and rolls his eye while walking toward me. I sit on the very edge and hold my arms out. He stands a foot away from my reach and whispers, "Is this consensual if you're high?"

"I'm buzzing," I correct him, "For me, my high experiences are different than my drinking. I know what I'm doing right now and I'm just high enough for all the feelings to be intensified."

"Okay," he smiles at me, the eagerness glued to his face. He steps forward, so I stand up. I kiss him hard on the mouth and pull his shirt up. I part for a second to yank it all the way off of him. He grins and I kiss him again. I start to kiss all over his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, his ears, and all over his neck. I work my way down his chest, taking the time between kisses to say,

"If you want to stop, at any time, we can and we will."

His breath hitches as I kiss above his waistband. "Oh—Okay."

I grin against his flesh and curl my middles fingers through his side belt loops to tug him against my mouth. I kiss, lick and suck on his lower abdomen, savoring the sight and feel of his abs and manly chest hair. I scoot all the way against his body and take a second to unbutton and unzip his pants. I look up at him as I slowly tug his pants down to his knees. Isaac's breathing quickens and he slides his hands up into his hair. I slide my fingertips on the inside of his boxer briefs and I murmur against the flesh of his hard stomach, "Have you even been blown?"

"Na—no," he quietly stutters.

I grin up at him, softly pressing my chin into his flesh. "Would you like to be?"

He quickly shakes his head up and down, "Yes yes yes."

I laugh against his hot skin and carefully pull down his underwear. I lean back as his dick springs free and slaps against his stomach. I gasp and stare at it for a second too long, so he asks in a shaky voice, "Is it… okay?"

I grab his outer thighs in my hands and stare up at him. "I'm not kidding when I tell you this is the biggest dick I've ever seen."

He blushes and rolls his lips in and out of his mouth.

I blow cool air onto the tip and watch his body quiver. I lick my lips and look up at him, "Fight the urge to hump so that you don't kill me."

Isaac laughs and nods.

I lick my right hand a few times and gently wrap it around the base of dick. I look up into his eyes as I twirl my tongue around his head, flicking the tip of my tongue against the sensitive hole. I smirk as his lower body clenches and wiggles. I slowly trace circles from the whole to ridge and wink at him as he firmly presses and rolls his lips. I gently run my teeth against the head as I take the head into my mouth. Isaac gasps and buckles a bit, especially as I bring my mouth back up, never taking my eyes away from his. I lick my lips with exaggeration and wrap them into my mouth to cover my teeth. I slowly take his head back into my mouth, slurping and sucking on it for a minute before taking his next thick inch. I struggle a bit from his girth, so I slurp and suck my way back up to the head. I flick and suck on the hole before going down again; each time I bob back up I take another inch into my mouth. I close my eyes and groan and hum against his throbbing cock. I pull up all the way for just a moment. I stare into his eyes while I basically slobber all over both of my hands. I wink at him again – his face is contorted with pleasure, his eyes stare holes into me, and he's biting his bottom lip like he's gonna rip it off and eat it. I blow cool air on his dick before cupping his balls in my left hand and jerk the length of his dick that I know I won't be able to suck. A loud moan rips out of his mouth, so he slaps his hands over his mouth. I resist laughing and start to slurp and slobber all around his cock, like I'm licking and sucking a quickly melting popsicle. I take him back into my mouth while quickly jerking him and rolling his balls. His hands muffle his moans and he starts to roll his hips to resist slamming his dick down my throat.

I grin around his dick, slide up and murmur against the head, "Will you come in my mouth, Isaac?"

His body shakes and he digs his toes into the carpet. He nods so fast that I think his head is going to fly off.

I resist laughing and gently push him back a bit. He takes a step back, so I drag his pants and underwear all the way down to his ankles. I stay squatting and run my hands up his outer thighs and all around his flexing abs. I twirl the head of his dick between my lips and murmur against them, "I wanna hear you, baby."

He grits his teeth to muffle a gruff moan, then he whispers, "This is so good."

I smirk against the side of his dick and start slurping again, almost giving the tender, rock hard flesh hickeys.

His whole body tremors and he says through grinding teeth, "Oh god oh god oh god. Sel-sel-selamawit."

I take six thick inches into my mouth and throat and start to hum.

His chest flexes and thrusts all around. He grabs handfuls of my hair and groans. "I'm gonna come."

I slowly suck my way up to the head of his dick. I grab one of his hands and place it on his dick. I back up a little bit, tilt my head back, open my mouth wide and roll my tongue up. I look up at him through my lashes and whisper, "Just in my mouth."

Isaac wastes no time with furiously jerking his dick. He places the head of his dick in my mouth, jerks a few more times, and loudly groans at his release. His hot cum shoots into my mouth for days. I have to swallow a couple of times before he finishes. I lick my lips, sigh, and then smack my lips together. I watch as his dick goes half flaccid, so I lick the cum off of the head to bring it back up. I look up at him as I stand up. Isaac pulls my shirt off and uses a werewolf nail to cut the front connector of my bra.

I shake my head and say, "I could have just taken it off."

He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth. He groans against my flesh, "It's not the same."

I giggle but then I moan. I watch as he swirls and nibbles on my left nipple. He looks up at me, squeezes both of my breasts, and bounces back and forth between nipples. He pulls on them with his teeth, smirking as I shove a few fingers in my mouth to muffle my noises. Isaac unbuttons my pants and yanks them down. I step out of them; Isaac sees an opportunity and he takes it. He grabs my left leg and hooks it over his shoulder I gasp as he buries his nose in pussy through my panties. He breathes in deeply and groans out, "You're so wet."

I grab a handful of his hair as he squeezes my ass in both of his hands. I can't figure anything to say back to him, so I grind myself against his face. He shakes my cheeks in his hands before ripping the sides of my thong open. I roll my eyes as he tosses my thong over his shoulder, but I moan loudly as he gives my pussy a hard, slow lick. I shove a few fingers into my mouth and watch as he nibbles on my outer lips and slurps up the wetness between my folds. He teases me as I teased him – I can tell he's trying to do to me what I did to him, so I slid my right hand from his hair to my clitoris. I slide the fingers out of my mouth and whisper in a shaking voice, "lick this."

He groans against it and then slowly licks my click. I groan as he presses his tongue roughly against my clit, giving it a million licks a minute. I start to shake against his face and bit my lips closed. He quickly coaxes my clit out from hiding; once it's noticeably encouraged, he takes it into his mouth and licks, flicks, nibbles and sucks on it like he did to my nipples. He slides his hands onto my hips to keep me stable as I quiver and shake against his face. I grab a fistful of his hair and his mouth disappears into folds of my pussy. He sucks on me like a vacuum and only leaves my clit to dip his tongue into my hole. I gasp at the feeling of his probing tongue and loudly whisper to him, "I'm going to fucking come oh my goodness I'm going to come all over your perfect face."

I can feel him smirk as he starts to wildly suck my clit into his mouth, rolling it between his front teeth. I stuff my fingers back into my mouth as I buck wildly against his face and gush onto his mouth. Isaac keeps slurping and sucking up my juices after I stop gyrating against his face. He pushes me back onto his bed, spreads my legs, licks my slit a few times and then puts hickeys all over my inner thighs. I grab handfuls of his sheets, look him in the eyes and then whisper in a harsh voice, "Fuck me, Isaac."

He grins and starts to get on top of me. I lean up and kiss him wildly. I pull his hair and scratch up his back as he uses one hand to balance himself on top of me and uses the other to feel me up. I pull away from his lips and start sucking on his earlobe. I whisper in a husky voice, "I want to feel every last inch of you slamming inside me."

Isaac grinds his hard cock against my wet pussy. I wrap my legs around him and groan at the feeling of his dick rubbing against my soaking folds. Isaac buries his face in my neck, kissing and biting me. I reach down and grip his cock. I gently tug him so he knows to follow my motions. I buck my hips up a bit so I can wrap my legs around his middle, then I slide the tip of his dick into my pussy. I groan out loudly and shamelessly. Isaac slowly pushes into me, focusing on the sounds of my breath and my heartbeat. I grip my hands around his triceps as he rebalances himself. Isaac looks me in the eye and grins like a buffoon. I smile back up at him and whisper, "Go slow, baby, I need to adjust to you."

His grin widens. "This feels fucking amazing."

"Good," I moan against his lips. I tug at his hair and scratch his arms and back and he slides another inch into me with every new minute. I buck my hips into the bed after a while and I whisper in a high pitch voice, "Is that all of you?"

Isaac smirks against the flesh of my neck. "No."

"Ooooh," I groan and roll my head back into his mattress, "I can't take anymore."

Isaac covers my face and neck in kisses, sucking on my lips and tender neck spots. He slides another inch in and watches my face. Absolute bliss oozes out of my pores. I roll my eyes back into my head as he slowly starts to hump me. His gigantic cock fills me up like no other. I can feel my slick pussy walls squeezing and quivering around his massive member. I already feel my orgasm building with the sensations of his head sliding out and pushing back into my entrance. I start to suck on his earlobe and whisper dirty things to him. Isaac's thrusts quicken, deepen, and get harder as I tell him, "You feel so fucking goooood—you're so huge."

He grins and sucks on my collarbone. Isaac readjusts his position to comfortably lower his head to my collarbone and breasts. He sucks on my collar and my nipples, grinding his pelvis against my clit as he humps me. I scream out, so I slam my left hand over my mouth. Isaac looks up at me with his stupid grin. I'd laugh, but he stops humping me and starts wildly fucking me. He slides his hands underneath my arms and grips my triceps; his eyes never leave mine as he continues sucking my nipples, gyrating against my clit and slamming his fat cock deep into my pussy.

I groan, wiggle, moan, and thrust my hips up to match his pace. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," I whisper groan, "I'm gonna gush all over your fat cock, I—Isaac! You're so amazing!"

He slams up into me as he slide back up to kiss me hard on the lips. I scream into his mouth and he groans against my lips. I fidget around underneath him and dig my nails up and down his back. I can feel his cock throb within me, sending me off the edge. I come hard and gush all over his cock and soaking his balls. I scream wildly against his lips. We stare into each other's eyes as he keeps fucking me. He buries his face into my neck and pull the pillow from under my head to over my mouth. I scream and groan into it as Isaac's hips wildly flex and pull back and slam back into me. I watch as he slowly turns; I shudder at the feeling of his cock growing even more from his transformation. Isaac only thrusts half of his cock into me while he digs his claws into his mattress. His body arches up as he fucks me harder and faster than I've ever been fucked before. My whole body is quivering; every bit of my skin feels like it's on fire and my pussy walls clench onto his cock and squeeze with everything I've got. Isaac throws his head back and howls as he comes inside me. He keeps humping me as load after load is emptied deep inside me. I scream into the pillow and roll my eyes back into my head at the sigh of his animalistic features phasing back and forth as he comes down from his orgasm. Isaac pulls out and slams down onto me. I weakly slide my left hand up into his hair after discarding the pillow. Isaac plants kisses all over my face before coming back to my lips. Between kisses I tell him, "If that's how you fuck as a virgin, I can't wait to see what you're like tomorrow."

His head perks up and he looks into my eyes. His wide grin is glued to his face. "Tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," I kiss him deeply and then say, "Unless I'm too sore. That is very much a possibility."

Isaac grins more, proud of himself, and kisses me softly, sweetly, deeply. I run my hands through his hair and play with his curls. After a while he sighs, completely exhausted, and rolls off of me. I do my best to bring my breathing back to normal. He turns his head to the left and laughs, "Do you want me to drive you home or do you want to try and fly back?"

I laugh and playfully roll my eyes, "Let's drive. I'll leap back in through my window."

* * *

**A/N: The smut/lemon/sex is finally here, so please leave a comment! And thank you to my anonymous commenter! I appreciate it!**


	10. Fire

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

Some time has passed and it's the night before school starts. We are more than positive that everyone in this house knows exactly what's happening, but we do our best to be quiet, anyway. And I'm pretty sure that Chris knows I've been flying in an out at night every night. But I don't really care. All I can focus on is the wind beneath my wings and the feeling of my newly braided hair flowing and floating in the air. I've learned not to bother with a shirt or a bra I intend on keeping, or at all, when I fly over to Isaac's room; I fly high up enough to go without being seen, anyway, so this is fine, if not a bit chilly.

I can see Isaac lying down on his bed, his arms crossed behind his head, his whole body stretched and flexed, his erection peeking out of the underarmour underwear that I bought him the other day. I sigh happily and fly into Isaac's room through his open window. I flutter around a bit and land by straddling him. Isaac grins up at me and says, "Is that a long skirt or a short dress?"

I plant a slow, soft kiss on his lips and trail my kisses up to his right ear. I murmur against his earlobe, "I'm not entirely sure. But I'm sick of you ripping apart all my clothes."

He chuckles and loosely wraps his left hand in my hair, "You can buy more."

I shake my wings and shed all my feathers on his bed and us before retracting them back into my spine. I trail my kisses back to his mouth and kiss his lips again. "That doesn't mean I have the time to go out and buy anything." I plant a fast, hard kiss on his lips. His soft lips flutter all around my eager mouth, sucking me into him before sharply letting me go. I groan softly and continue, "Seeing as I spend all the time I can with you."

Isaac runs his right hand down from my breast to my hip; he presses me against his erection and grins when I gasp. He lifts his hips and presses his self against me, slowly dry humping me from beneath. I groan and roll my eyes back while stretching and relaxing onto his chest. His moves his left hand from my hair to up and down my back, eventually using both hands to squeeze my fat ass and grind me against him; I wiggle against him and groan into his shoulder muscles, but I gasp and bite onto his flesh when his throbbing cock springs free from his underwear and starts slipping around my folds. Isaac sighs out with pleasure and then grips my hips. He readjusts me so that his huge member slides up and down between my folds and the tip of dick hits and rubs my swollen clit. I wrap my arms around his lower shoulders and bury my face into his neck, just below his ear. I bite and suck on his earlobe between soft gasps and suppressed yelps.

We've had sex at least once a day, every day this week. On one hand, I'm surprised Isaac's sexual skills have evolved so much, but, on the other hand, I figure that all this sex has to help. What is really surprising is that such a sweet, considerate, and gentle guy can turn into such a sex craving, animalistic, control nut. Isaac loves to tease and torture me, as is evident in his slow, gyrating pelvis, his hands cupping and squeezing my ass, and his kisses and bites wherever he can reach on my neck. I can feel a particularly loud groan about to rip from my pressed lips, so I quickly move my face from his neck and slam my lips down against his. He grins against my lips and then sucks on my bottom lip as I groan onto his lips and the side of his mouth. Isaac parts from my lips and whispers, "Pull down your top."

I moan and obey my orders.

He smirks and drinks in the sight of my large, round breasts, heaving from my hitching breath and physical contortions of the pleasure he's giving me.

Isaac nips at the tender spots on my neck, sending shivers shooting through my spine and stinging deep inside my clit. I shudder against him; especially as he groans into my ear, "Pull down my boxers. I'm gonna give you this fat cock."

"Oh my god," I sigh against his collarbone as I arch my body and slip his cock back into his underarmour. I then hook my fingers under the waistband and start to slip it off of him. He lifts his hips so that I may tug his underwear down to his mid—thigh, causing his gigantic cock to spring up and slap his stomach, leaving a small trace of his precum near his navel. I slide down his body and lick and suck the precum off of his hard stomach, making sure to kiss and suck and lick all around his throbbing cock, but never actually touching it. Isaac growls and his eyes flash yellow; I almost cum just hearing him, but looking up in his golden eyes make me shudder. I tug his underwear completely off of his body and then crawl back up his body, taking a second to slurp and suck the head of his cock.

Isaac groans and looks into my eyes. "Come back up here."

I kiss the tip of his dick and crawl back up his torso. Isaac cradles my face in one hand and squeezes my ass in the other. He plants kisses all over my face, neck, collar, and breasts, taking is time to get to my nipples. I shudder and groan as he licks circles around my left nipple, slowly wrapping it in his rough tongue and sucking it into his hot mouth. I use my right hand to prop myself up a bit and stay balanced while I slide my left hand up the back of his neck and into his thick, curly hair. Isaac lets go of my left nipple, blows cool air on it, and then kisses his way to my right nipple, pulling on it with his teeth and roughly licking it all around with his tongue. I groan loudly and gyrate my hips against his throbbing cock. "Oh baby," I whisper.

Isaac looks up at me and slowly releases my nipple. He squeezes my ass in both hands and starts to drag me up and down his length. He grins at my pleasure—covered face, and groans animalistically through clenched teeth, "Do you want my fat cock deep in your tight pussy?"

"Oh my goodness," I groan and collapse onto him, putting all my energy into humping him back.

He takes one hand off my ass and cups my chin with it. He brings my lips up to his, kisses me hard, and then makes me lock eyes with him. "Hmm? You want my fat cock?"

"Ooooh yes," I moan, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth.

Isaac bites my lips and grins at my squeal. He puts his hand back onto my ass and lifts my hips. He circles his hips so he can circle the tip of his dick around my dripping entrance before pushing the fat, mushroom head that is the tip of his dick into my pussy. I bury my face into his neck and moan loudly at the feeling of his rock hard cock stretching my soaking pussy. Isaac groans as he slowly lowers me down onto the next few inches of his cock. I cry out – his thick dick stretches and fills me while his slick tip pushes and hits my g—spot as if he's trying to carve it out of my body. Isaac smiles and pants as he starts to speed up; he digs his fingers into my hips and ass as he slides me down his cock while thrusting up into me. He buries the first eight of his monstrous ten inches deep in my aching pussy, making squeal and squirm against his chiseled body. I toss my head back as I feel my orgasm pushing its way through all the nerves in my body. Isaac kisses me roughly and sloppily before biting and pulling down my lower lip. I cry out, so he lets go and huskily whispers, "Whose pussy is this?"

My eyes roll back and I stutter out between moans, "Yours, baby."

Isaac's thrusts quicken and his voice deepens, "Whose pussy is this?"

"Yours, baby!" I shout out, shivering and squirming.

He murmurs against the flesh behind my ear, "Who's baby?"

I grin, my pussy starting to quiver and clench around his cock. I moan loudly, "I—Isaac!"

"So whose pussy is this?" He groans and starts slamming as much of his cock into me as he can.

My whole body grinds against him. I bury my face into his neck again and shout against his skin, "Isaac's! This is Isaac's pussy!"

"Ooooh yes," he pants, "Oh that's fucking right. Squeeze my cock, baby."

I widen my straddling and squeeze my inner thigh and PC muscles, which makes me cum instantly. My juices gush all down his cock, soaking his hard cock and tightening balls. Isaac yelps and growls at my orgasm and slams up into me as if it's his last fucking ever. "This is Isaac's pussy?"

I scream against his flesh.

I see him smirk as he continues to thrust into me – may this werewolf endurance never end. "Oh yes! Oh yes! This pussy's Isaac's!"

His voice is so deep and husky it's almost unrecognizable, "And how does Isaac fuck this pussy?"

I shudder, feeling my orgasm exploding into multiple other quivers deep inside my hot, slick walls. "Like no other," I groan, "He fucks me the best."

"Oh yeah," He shudders and digs his fingertips so deep into my hips he's about to break the skin. "What's he fucking his pussy with?"

I roll my face around his neck and stretch my arms up behind his pillow. I dig my fingers into his mattress and twist his sheets, "With a fucking monster cock."

Isaac groans, "Does his pussy like his monster cock?"

I feel myself cumming again, harder than before. I roll my head back and groan and moan wildly, not caring if Scott hears us. "Oh! Oh! Oh, Isaac! His pussy loves getting fucked!" I gasp and yelp as Isaac rolls over so that he's on top of me. He grins and pants as he pulls my hips up and opens my legs up. He hooks his arms around my thighs and swings my ankles over his shoulders. I roll my head back into his mattress and grab one of his small, decorative pillows to scream into. The pleasure ripping through my body proves to be too much, especially as he frees one hand to start rubbing and slapping my engorged, sensitive clit. He buries all ten inches of his throbbing, thick cock into me. He's sweating furiously and raining all over me; the tip of his dick goes in cycles from slipping out of, sliding back into, and stretching my dripping hole to rubbing my G—spot to hitting my cervix. The pain and pleasure sends me over a third edge; I scream and spasm as I feel his balls slapping against me. Isaac lets go of me and slams his palms on either side of my chest.

He stares at me and huffs and pants as he thrusts like never before – constantly fucking me better every second. He starts grunting dirty things to me through his clenched teeth. His head tilts back and his eye roll back into his head. "You love this gigantic cock in your little pussy, huh?"

I squeal and squirm.

"You loved being fucked by a monster cock, huh?"

I squirt and scream.

"You love feeling my balls empty into your pussy?"

I flop around underneath him. "You like me riding your curves? You like me burying my cock in you?"

I reach down and cup his balls. Isaac instantly collapses onto me and groans as load after load shoot into my pussy and quickly drip out of me with the rest of my juices. Isaac flops around on top of me and humps me awkwardly to ride out his orgasm. I remove the pillow from my face so I may begin to breathe normally, but Isaac pulls out of me tortuously slow, then he kisses all over my face and neck and chest and stomach. His kisses jump to my ankles; he nips, bites, kisses, licks and sucks every inch of my flesh from my ankles to my outer hip and then back onto my inner thighs. He places fresh hickeys all over the other inner thigh hickeys he's even me this week. I groan and watch as he wraps his arms around my hips, tugs me up to his face, and then blows cool air up and down my dripping slit. He grins mischievously down at me and murmurs against the flesh of my pussy, just above my slit, "Can you feel your pussy quivering?"

I nod furiously.

He gives me one long lick before saying, "Can you feel all my cum filling you up? Spilling out of you?"

I groan and wrap my hands up in my hair. I stare at what I can see of his amazing physique before he buries his face in my folds, licking and sucking up our juices. I cum on and in his mouth in no time at all; he rubs his mouth and face against my pussy and slick inner thighs. He growls out, "You smell so fucking good."

I smirk at him and say, "You like the way your pussy smells."

He smirks, shivers and shifts. I groan at the sight of my werewolf between my legs. He plants gentle kisses up and down my fully exposed pussy and growls so deeply it's almost a doggy purr, "I love how wet I make _my_ pussy," he looks into my eyes and smirks, "I love how _my_ pussy gets so hot and bothered for me."

I groan and wiggle out of his hands. He places me back onto the bed, so I roll up and wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him slowly, softly, and deeply. He sighs against my lips and wraps his arms around my waist. I stretch up a bit and cup his face in my hands. He pulls away from my lips, stares up at me, and then shifts back to his regular human self. We just look at each other through our bedroom eyes for a while; Isaac eventually breaks our silence by whispering, "I don't know how your high school was, but Beacon Hills High throws a Fall Formal every year…"

He trails off, so I smile and ask, "Are you asking me to go with you?"

"Yeah," he breathes and smiles. "I thought it'd be obvious that I'd want to go with you, but…" Isaac plants a quick kiss on my lips and then murmurs against them, "But I want you to know that I want to be with you, not just have you assume it."

I twist his curls gently between the fingers on my left hand and softly scratch his back with my right hand. "Does this mean I get to watch you try on suits?"

He laughs and then kisses down my neck and onto my shoulder. He looks up at me from his head resting on my left shoulder, "That, and that I get to watch you try on dresses."

I roll my eyes playfully.

Isaac carefully rolls up a bit and places me back down on the bed. He gets in a push-up position above me and kisses me with a sweet, gentle passion. He parts from me after a few minutes and says, "And it means that I get to take you out to a nice dinner and spend a spectacular evening with an angel."

I feel my whole body melt into his mattress.

Isaac rolls off of me, so I start to get up, but he wraps an arm around my waist, holding me against him. I smile but whisper, "I need to get going."

He nuzzles his nose into the back of my neck, "Do you really think that Chris doesn't know you're here?"

I laugh and then turn around to face him. "Touché."

Isaac smiles, pecks the tip of my nose with a kiss, and lets me go. He slowly turns around, inviting me to spoon him. I stretch my sore body and scoot up a few inches so that I can rest my head on top of his, but Isaac turns again and scoots down a few inches. He nuzzles his face into my neck and lets me rest my head a bit above his. He wraps his left arm loosely around me and stretches his right arm underneath his pillow. I press my hand between his shoulder blades and hold him tightly against me while sliding my left hand underneath his pillow. I wrap my right leg around his hip and weave my fingers in-between his. I can feel him smile into my flesh as we drift to sleep.


	11. Here We Go

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

I have no interested in leaving one of the most expensive cars in the world in the parking lot of a high school, so I hitch a ride with Allison to school. She drives carefully from the second Chris waves us off to the second she parks. We don't speak in the car or on our way to our lockers. I got one next to Allison so that I wouldn't like a lonely loser, but since we're not talking, it looks that way anyway.

Allison roughly pulls her lock off of her locker, and, without looking at me, says, "You've been getting pretty close with Isaac, huh?"

I do my best to not tense up, "Yea, so what?"

She stuffs the books and binders she doesn't need right away into her locker, "You pounced on him rather quickly."

I laugh and roll my eyes. I open up and start setting up my locker, too. "Pounced?"

She looks at me for a bitter, quick, second, "Scott doesn't think it's a good idea, that's all."

I pull my head back as far as my neck will go, I scrunch up my face, and I wait for her to look at me again. "I'm not a part of his pack. I don't need to listen to him – an _omega_."

She breathes out heavily and shuts her locker. "Isaac is more loyal to him than to Derek. He might as well be his alpha."

I close my locker and walk with her to our first class, "Regardless, I'm sure he can make his own decisions. Why are you two so against this anyway?"

Allison tightly presses her books against her chest, "A lot has happened to him in a really short amount of time – his dad died, his friends are missing – "

I start walking faster than her, "A lot has happened to you, too, and you're still functioning. You think you're some super strong person – to which no one else can compare? Fuck off this." I walk away from her and off to class. I walk into Mr. Harris' class and scan the room for seats. Isaac smiles widely at me and pats the stool next to him, but Scott sees this and springs from his seat with Stiles to sit with Isaac. I roll my eyes and shake my head; I sit next to Stiles and take out a small binder, filled with paper and several dividers, and a pen. Stiles looks at my half of the desk and then looks at me. "Do you want to borrow a pencil?"

"No," I sigh and start to shake the pen between my pointer and pinky finger.

"Are you sure? It'll be easier to get rid of mistakes –"

I look him the eyes, "I don't make mistakes."

"Uh—alright," Stiles displays his discomfort by laughing and leaning away from me.

We sit in silence while the rest of the class murmurs to one another. A tall, skinny pale dude with thick black glasses eventually makes his way into the class. He drops a black messenger back on the teacher's desk in front and writes his name on the chalkboard behind him. He turns back to face the class and says, "Welcome to Chemistry B. It's good to see some of you here," his eyes scan the room and rest on Stiles, "and it's a surprise to see some of you here."

Stiles leans against our desk and looks up at Mr. Harris with a smooth face and eyes tilted to the ceiling.

"We'll see who of you makes it on to Physics, and we'll see some of you barely pass this course. Some of you might even go back to Chemistry A."

I start to give him the same bored, irritated look that Stiles is perfecting.

Mr. Harris drones on for a bit, but finally says, "Get all your supplies out. But quietly – I'm going to take role."

He calls Allison, who raises her hand from the front of the room, and then pauses at the next name. I know it's mine – Bernard had my last name changed to Argent once he officially claimed me. Mr. Harris slowly raises his eyes to me and says, "We have a new student. Care to introduce yourself?"

This is clearly a ploy to get how to pronounce my name without trying or just asking me, so I smirk and say, "Nefertiti."

Mr. Harris clears his throat, looks at his roster and then back up at me. "Alright, well. Welcome to Beacon Hills High—hopefully you'll do better in this class than your pal Stiles –"

"He's not my pal," I say, staring Harris in his eyes.

He smiles, but his nervousness and discomfort tugs the corners of his lips down a bit. "Well, you're already to a good start then."

Stiles crosses his arms against his chest and Harris continues on with his roll call. Scott passes me a note once Harris looks to a couple of other students, which reads, "Why are you changing your name?"

I grin and write back, "Because I am a Queen." I carelessly toss it back to him. I push my hair up and together, fiddling with the super kinky curls that make up my Mohawk 'fro and smile devilishly at Scott once he reads the note.

Harris passes out his syllabus and drones on and on about his expectations for his students and what we can expect to do for his class. I already took Chemistry back in LA, but I started it half way through the year, so I figure that this class can't hurt. Plus I figured that I could sit with Isaac, but clearly this nosey group has plans for us.

I doodle potential Fall Formal dresses while Harris drones on about memorizing the periodic table. It felt like he was talking about it forever, and clearly he was as the bell rang during his speech. I tossed all my things back into my bag and shot up and off of the stool. Scott pushes the stool back to get up, but I quickly slide him against the table – which makes Harris chuckle – and grab the hand Isaac offers me. I walk out of class with him and ask, "Do you know where—?"

"Ms. Blake's class? I'm pretty sure we all have that together, too."

"Oh good," I smile at him. I'm usually much shorter than him – I'm five seven, but Isaac is a giant at six two – but I'm wearing my pair of red, T-Strap, Gucci pumps, which rockets me up to just about six feet tall. The black denim of my pants stops just above the strap, letting the unique strap shine for the entire world to see. Isaac lets go of my hand and wraps his right arm around my waist, fingering one of the flaps at the end of my black leather, biker–like jacket. I wrap my left arm around his shoulders and flash him a small smile. I stroke some loose curls off of his neck and with the rest of his hair, but gently retract my hand so that my gold rings of crystal skulls don't tug at the loose strands of hair. I can't really tell if people are staring at our lite PDA, our fantastic fashion, or at us, but I do my best to ignore all of them anyway.

We take our time in the passing period to get to class, enjoying the feeling of one another's sides pressed together. Once again, Scott and Stiles are separate in seating to try and separate us. I roll my eyes and set my red bag on the desk in connected to Scott's desk. I grip the sides of the desk and lean over so that our eyes are locked and on the same level. I shake my head and whisper, "No one is going to set the limits for my life, especially some goody-two-shoes _omega_."

Scott swallows the excess spit in his mouth – his throat flexes and tightens for it – and shakes his head back at me. "Isaac—"

"Is his own keeper. Now," I lean closer with every word, "Get. The. Fuck. Up."

Scott shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and then sits next to Stiles.

I smirk to myself and get comfortable in my seat.

* * *

Isaac and I got split up at lunch because I had to go to the office and get my schedule officially validated. What should have been a minute for a signature turned into waiting at the door of a counselor who was offering unsolicited advice to some sophomore. I couldn't leave because I needed his signature for the remainder of my day, but I swiftly took off once he signed it. I saw Isaac walking with Stiles, so I speed walked up to him and tugged his right hand as he swung it back. He looks over his right shoulder and then smiles at me. "Where have you been?"

I sigh, "I had to wait on a counselor to sign off the rest of my day."

"Oh, well, do you want to see what's left in the cafeteria?"

I shake my head and then smirk. I tug his hand so we can start walking away from Stiles and whisper, "I'm more thirsty than anything else."

Isaac's face goes from a neutral look, to quick confusion, to devilish excitement. I lead him to a janitor's closet, but he tugs me away and says, "Coach won't be in his office until three."

I giggle and say, "Who are you and what have you done with the shy Isaac?"

He laughs and starts to powerwalk us to the gym area of the high school. He picks the lock of the door with a werewolf nail and then locks it again behind us. Isaac starts to pick the few things off of his coach's desk, but I just slide them off onto the desk chair. I push Isaac onto the desk so that he's sitting on the edge and then grab his face between my cool palms. His thin lips feel so much fuller when pressed against my own; I can taste the greasy pepperoni pizza he had for lunch as he slides his tongue between my parted lips. I ignore the taste and continue our slow, sensual kiss. Isaac parts from me and said, "How thirsty can you be with five minutes left?"

I laugh and then tug at his belt buckle. "It's fantastic that five minutes is not enough time for you."

Isaac laughs and then plants a quick kiss on my lips. "Practice ends around five—"

I plant a quick kiss on his lips and then murmur, "I'll bring you some water then."

* * *

Allison drops me off near the field on her way to Lydia's house so that they can make flashcards of the Periodic Table for Harris' class. I smile and shiver at the sound of the tapping of my heels on the newly asphalted parking lot behind the gym. Neither of the double doors to the hallway that leads to the gym and the locker rooms are locked, so I waltz right in and make my way through the boys' locker room. I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and then breathe in deeply. It seems god awful, but I can pick out Isaac's scent; I head over to his locker and play with the dial until I hear the locks click, opening up the locker for me. His shit is everywhere and disgusting – isn't this the first day, what the fuck is all this mess? They must have practiced over the summer.

I use my nails to carefully pick up his sweat soaked clothing and lay them out on the benches behind me. I wave my left hand within the locker in a desperate attempt to fan it out while using my other hand to prop his things back up and organizing his general mess. When I feel that I've done the best with the materials given to me. I grip the sides of his locker and duck my head in to make sure that I've dealt with everything. I retract my body from his locker, but then I feel a body press against me; semi-hairy, cream-colored hands press against the lockers next to my hands. Isaac nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck as I turn to look at him. His breath is hot and his lips are firmly pressed into my flesh in the shape of a smile. "I heard the tapping of your shoes."

I smile and mumble, "I'm glad they've grown on you."

He chuckles, which vibrates against the tenderness of my neck. Isaac further presses his growing self against my ass; I wiggle against him and sigh, but then I scoot closer to his locker and say, "Don't get your sweat on this six hundred dollar leather."

He laughs and starts to back up, but then I hear Stiles say, "I've never heard of someone too vain for taboo locker shenanigans."

I roll my eyes, "I've never heard of someone too sassy for voyeurism."

Isaac laughs and steps back so that I may step away from the lockers.

Stiles ignores my remark and says, "Derek texted – "

"What?" I laugh, "You two dating?"

Stiles ignores me again, "and he says that we all need to head over to his place."

Isaac sighs and rolls his eyes while sitting next to his things I put on a near-by bench. "He kicks me out and then wants us all to go hang?"

I turn and look at Isaac, "When'd he kick you out?"

He rolls his head from one shoulder to the other, "Just before you took me back-to-school shopping."

"Oh," I whisper and lean against the locker next to Isaac's open locker. I look back at Stiles and ask, "For what?"

Stiles shrugs, "Something about the heat."

I tilt my head back and laugh, "It's cold as fuck here."

Stiles shrugs again and then checks his phone. "He's rolling up. Let's get out of here."

Isaac stretches and stands up, "His car is a shitty two seater."

I laugh and then tap my right foot out, showing off the heel, "Have fun walking, boys."

Isaac laughs and rolls his eyes while Stiles grabs his keys out of his locker. He looks at Isaac and says, "Grab Scott and meet me at the jeep."

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a comment!**


	12. Pulse

**Chapter 12**

* * *

I walk out of the locker rooms, the hallway, and back outside to the parking lot. I make a B–line for Derek's black car. I hop in before he can say anything and click the seatbelt into place. I look up at him and he's giving me a curious stare. "Where are the others?"

"In Stiles' jeep." I look around his car, "As they surely cannot fit in here."

He rolls his eyes and speeds off, "I just need to know they're coming."

"Where are we going?"

"My place."

"For what?"

He rolls his eyes and breathes out heavily and loudly, "To talk."

I tilt my chin down into my chest and tilt my head a bit to the left. I can feel the corners of my lips slowly stretch and turn into a small smirk as I ask, "To talk about what?"

His knuckles whiten as he grips his steering wheel, "You?"

"Ohh," I sarcastically pout, "I'm so flattered."

He looks at me and his eyes flash red, so I scoot closer to my door. "Alright, sorry."

He shakes his head and focuses back on the road. The engine revs as he builds up speed in a thirty-five. "I'm not angry."

I look forward and gulp. I should have ridden in the jeep with Stiles and Isaac and not with this deranged dude. I look at him every once in a while and see his eyes flash back and forth from their natural state to alpha red. I cross my legs tightly and grip my top knee in my left hand, the door handle with my right handle.

Derek's grip on the steering wheel loosens and his body relaxes into the seat of his car. I stare at him until he parks near his place and gets out of the car. I pop out right after him and ask, "What was that?"

He shakes his head, "I'll explain everything once we're all together."

I sigh and roll my eyes while following him up to his warehouse–like apartment. Peter is flipping through a magazine on a couch near a window when we walk in. He snaps his head up and his eyes flash an icy blue. Derek steps in front of me and says, "We're going to have to talk about this when the others arrive."

Peter nods, his eyes never leaving what he can see of me. I sit on a different couch, away from them, and wait for Isaac, Stiles and Scott to roll up, which doesn't take too long. Isaac and Scott sniff the air before staring at me. Scott shakes his head and Isaac sits next to me, squishing me between the arm of the couch and his side. He wraps his arm around my waist and squeezes me to him. He isn't sweaty, he's in a sweater I bought him, and he smells good, so clearly they rinsed off before showing up. I relax into Isaac's side and chest; I smile up at him and sigh, finally feeling comfortable again.

"So," Stiles sighs, "Why are we all here?"

Scott sits down next to Peter while Derek leans against a wall. "We need to talk about the heat that's coming up?"

I roll my eyes. "This town is cold and only going to get colder with the fall."

"Not the weather," Peter half retorts, half growls. Isaac squeezes me tighter as Peter's eyes flash an icy blue.

Scott looks at Peter while Derek continues, "Time has twisted the tale of sirens from their real origins and purposes to evil, literal man eaters. But, there is some truth to that."

I tilt my head onto my left shoulder and look at Derek from beneath my lashes. "Which would be?"

He breathes out heavily and loudly, "Yours."

I groan from frustration, "My what?"

"Your heat."

I roll my eyes, "Stop speaking in riddles and talk like a regular person."

Derek laughs and shakes his head up at the ceiling before locking eyes with me. "Like all supernatural women, you will go through a heat – like a dog does."

I scrunch my face up and glue myself to Isaac.

"And like all supernatural men, we will sense it – smell it, feel it –"

Peter interrupts and growls, "Need it."

Isaac and I scowl at him; Isaac squeezes me so tightly that I'm sure he's leaving a bruise.

"The point is," Derek sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "everyone is different. Yours could last a couple days to a couple weeks. But you need to be really careful. You can already lure people to you with your voice – you need to not use that or you might drive someone to actual insanity, especially if they're just human." Everyone looks at Stiles, who rolls his eyes. Derek then looks back at me, "You're going to be especially fertile. So don't think that any contraception you may be taking is enough – use all measures."

Isaac laughs, "Alright, thanks Dad."

Derek glares at Isaac and retorts, "You'll be thanking me when you're not a dad."

Isaac and I laugh uncomfortably. I stand up and say, "Well, this has been great. See you boys later—"

Peter laughs and his laugh rings deeply in my ears. I stop walking and look over my shoulder at him. In mere seconds he's a mere foot behind me. "You should use condoms – we have plenty –"

Derek barks at him, "Have you lost all control since losing your alpha status?"

Peter ignores him.

I turn around to face him. I start to walk backwards toward the door, but Peter grabs my right wrist and tugs me toward him, "I'm sure your boy toy is wonderful, but you'll soon be wanting an alpha."

I gulp and tug my wrist out of his grasp, "Well, when you see one, you let me know."

He laughs and grabs both of my wrists. Scott and Isaac spring up from their seats while Stiles slowly makes his way to standing behind Derek.

Peter and I lock eyes – his glow an icy blue while mine darken with rage. I whisper, in a surprisingly gruff voice, "Let go of me or I'll snap your hands off of your wrists."

He grins and tugs me toward him, "I'd like to see you try –"

Isaac grips Peter by the shoulders and pull him away from me. Peter stumbles, but then turns and punches Isaac in the face. Peter and Isaac start to shift as their adrenaline skyrockets. I quickly pull my hand jewelry off, stuff them into my jacket pockets, zip'em up, and then disrobe from my jacket. Peter grips Isaac's neck in his right hand, but he looks over to me when he hears my jacket cling to the ground. I start walking toward them while pulling my red tank top over my head, exposing my heaving chest and my black, diamond back bra. Peter grins, but both him and Isaac's eyes widen when I shudder, scream and toss my head back. I toss my arms out to the sides, stretching them as far as they go and releasing talon-like claws, while wings slide out of my back. They unfold like snapping magnetic strips, and feathers grow out of them in seconds. Derek and Stiles gasp from awe and shock and Peter is glued to the site, but Isaac is used to it. He grins at me as I speed walk over to them, one foot in front of the other, which swings my hips and taps my heels. Peter starts to stand, but I grip his throat in my right hand and tug him up and away from Isaac. I hold him a foot off of the ground and press my fingertips deep into his flesh.

Peter grips my wrist and arm in his hands and hoarsely shouts in a disturbingly shrill voice, "So you think you're strong?"

I smirk and smash him down onto the cold ground. I'm in a lunge position over him, my hand still gripping his throat and my nails cutting into the first layer of his skin. I start to beat my wings, which, at first, is a cool breeze, but the beating becomes stronger and faster and it begins to push down on him. I can tell he's having trouble breathing, so I let go of his throat, but I continue the beating of my wings, which instantly sends him across the floor and to Isaac's feet. Isaac smirks down at him before turning, stepping over him, squatting and punching him in the face. Derek runs over to Isaac as he punches him a second time, but yanks him away before he punches him a third time. Isaac lands on his ass and skids a few times while Derek helps Peter up. I shake my head and then step back from everyone.

I squat lightly and press my hands into the flesh just above my knee. I roll my back and then arch it so that I may stare up at the ceiling. I groan loudly, clearly out of pain, as I shake my wings and all the feathers release and scatter. I shriek and close my eyes tightly as the flesh of my wings absorbs back into the bones, which stack together and slide back into my spine. My flesh burns from being open to let out the wings; the flesh stings as it quickly begins bonding back together and healing. This processes doesn't take more than 15 seconds, but it feels like an eternity. When I finally look at everyone, all I see are gaping mouths. "What?" I chuckles and push my hair up, off of my forehead and the back of my neck. I retract my talon-like claws until I have regular nails again, and then I walk over to my clothing.

Scott breaks the silence as I put my shirt on. "That, that was amazing!"

I grin and put my jacket back on, "I may be in debt to this pack, but I am not controlled by it." I look at Peter, who's still gripping the hand Derek offered him to get up, "You are the inheritors of, the descendants of evil men turned into beasts, men who scarified a brother to try and poke at the gods. You have been cursed by the gods while I am born of them. You will never be stronger than me."

He smirks and tilts his head, "We'll see."

Isaac doesn't shift back. He walks to me and holds my hand. We walk out of Derek's place while I look over at Stiles and say, "We'll be at the jeep."

* * *

**A/N: Please review!**

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**A/N: Thank you to my anonymous reviewer! **


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